The Lost Years
by theatregeek001
Summary: After the war, Harry and Hermione's friendship was greatly altered. Now, five years later, they meet again for the first time and the flame begins to rekindle. H/Hr
1. One

The Lost Years

Summary: After the war, Harry and Hermione's friendship was greatly altered. Now, five years later, they meet again for the first time and the flame begins to rekindle. H/Hr

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated characters. That all belongs to JK Rowling.

Author's Note: This is my first HHr story that does not involve any preconceived plot points from the books. In it, Harry and Hermione are about 22 or 23 and have a history much different from the one in Rowling's books. I do sincerely hope you enjoy this story, I know I'm having fun writing it. Thank you everybody!

* * *

One

I set my cup of coffee down and take my glasses off of my nose. With my left hand I squeeze the space between my eyes and try to get rid of my throbbing headache but it doesn't help, so I sigh deeply and lean back into my chair. My wild hair is falling out of its bun and is tickling my cheek but I ignore it and decide I can't sit here any longer, so I stand up quickly, grab my coffee, and bolt out the door.

The air is crisper than it was when I walked into The Three Broomsticks. I don't even know why I went inside. I haven't been to Hogsmeade since I was a student. Not really, anyway. The last time I was here I was with_ him_ and we were trying to escape some dementors. Maybe I just wanted to feel the nostalgia of it all. I smile to myself as I think this, but as I walk down the snowy pathway toward what used to be Ollivander's Wand Shop I start to regret my decision to come here at all. I've been doing fine trying to pretend I'm not part of this world anymore, and for five years now I have lived a comfortable life amongst Muggles and worked with a steady income. Who cares if dentistry is a rather trivial occupation compared to being part of the team of wizards who destroyed Lord Voldemort? That part of my life is over and I chose to walk away from it for my own reasons.

I pass the wand shop and fight the urge to glance inside. It's not Ollivander's anymore, but it's still the place eleven year old boys and girls go to get their first taste of the wizarding world. It's now owned by a different man with as much skill in wandlore as that wonderful old man had, and who, I'm sure, is just as capable of delivering the right wands to the proper children. I bite my lip to keep from looking inside and continue on, not quite sure where I'm heading.

I realize this is the stupidest decision I have ever made. Everywhere I go I keep expecting to run into someone from my past and I know if that happens I'll just get wrapped up in memories. Even so, my feet aren't turning around no matter how much my brain is telling them to abandon this stupid idea and go back home. I can feel the wind whipping at my cheeks and I feel the sting of the blush as it rises on my face but I press on and decide to walk into the bookstore. This is also a stupid decision.

The feelings that are coursing through my body are ones I haven't felt in over five years. It's a mixture of joy and pain, wonder and understanding, longing and distain. Part of me is afraid to take another step into the store but I do when a feel the hoard of new students trying to buzz pass me so they can get their textbooks. I watch them with the same feelings the bookstore is giving me and I feel tears threaten to escape. I forgot what crying felt like. Ever since that day I have been like a robot. I am suddenly way too overwhelmed by all these surges of emotions. My head is spinning and I feel nauseous but I take deep breaths to try and stop any projectile vomiting. I do not want to draw attention to myself. I stumble a little as I try to find a place to sit down and I bump into someone but I am too nauseous to say excuse me. I'm afraid if I open my mouth words are not what will come out so I move past the person and collapse on a footstool by some empty birdcages. I close my eyes and lean my back against the table they are resting on when a voice I once knew and chose to forget rang in my ears.

"Hermione?" it says. My eyes snap open and my heart drops to my stomach. I don't want to turn around and I still don't want to speak because the nausea hasn't gone away so I stay where I am. I hear footsteps get closer to me and my heart is beating so fast it's like it's going to pop out of my chest.

I see his shoes; brown, leather, with laces that are frayed slightly at the ends but are still shiny and durable. My eyes slowly work their way up from the ground and take note of his grey suit pants, his black belt, his white button up shirt and grey tie, but they come to rest on the collar of his shirt because I'm afraid to look into his eyes. He clears his throat and I take a deep breath. The nausea is at its highest point right now but I take the plummet and fix my chocolates on his emeralds. Yep, that's enough. I feel the puke spew out of my mouth and see them land on his grey pants, and the next thing I know I've passed out.

* * *

There is a light bugging me and my eyes flutter open. My head is still throbbing and I notice the nausea is gone, but I stay where I am in fear of it returning. I turn my head to the right and realize I have no clue where I am. Nothing surrounding me looks familiar at all. I have never seen that blue lamp sitting on that wicker end table and I have never been in a room with such decorative crown molding. I can't tell without my glasses, but it almost looks like it has carvings of the crests of the founders of Hogwarts on it. My nose twitches as I smell chamomile tea and I glance up, taking note of the never ending ceilings that rest above me. Suddenly he is there again with a wooden tray in his hand. I gulp.

"I brought you some tea, if you'd like." He tells me slowly and sets the tray on the coffee table in front of me. I stiffly nod and take a deep breath before sitting up. I feel the blood rush to my head and I'm about to fall over when I feel his strong arms on my shoulders, holding me up. I gawk at him and he pierces my eyes with his.

"I uh…" I start to say but I stop. My voice doesn't sound like mine. It's hoarse and distant, and I know my guard is up. Instead I force a smile and break my gaze with him, reaching for a mug. "Thank you." I say.

"You're welcome." He replies. This is so awkward. I don't take a sip of tea but I clutch the ceramic for dear life, praying that he leaves or this tension magically dies away. No, not magically. I don't like that word anymore. I run my thumb along the rim of the mug and swallow hard. He lets out a low sigh.

"Are you okay?" he asks. I look at him for a moment but the feelings are too overwhelming so I simply nod and finally take a sip of tea.

"Yeah," I begin, "I just ate something funny I think." I lie as I take comfort in the mug. I use it to hide my face as much as I can, and he grabs the other cup and leans into the couch as if it were his own. That's when I realize it probably is. I almost spit out my tea when I realize that means this is his flat and I'm a guest, but I stay aloof and we drink in silence. The awkward tension continues to grow and finally I can't take it anymore so I set the ceramic down and smile at him, still avoiding his eyes. "Thank you for helping me, really, but I should be going."

I start to stand up and debate about whether I should give him a hug or just flee the premises when I feel his hand on mind. It makes me jump and I feel goose bumps appear on my skin, and my eyes dart down to look at him for a moment before I have to look away. He tightens his grip a little.

"Hermione, wait…" he pleads. "Can we just, er, catch up for a bit?" His voice is strained and I feel my heart do a somersault, something it hasn't in five years. I know I can't deny him after that so I give a curt nod and sit back down. He is smiling like an idiot when I glance at him again and I can't help but let a laugh come out which makes him grin even wider.

"I missed that sound." He says to me. I feel my smile falter and my eyes meet his. They stay there for a moment longer than they have been and I feel my mouth go dry. He has tears brimming in his eyes and I feel some start in mine as well. He eyes me carefully, the tears not falling. "How've you been?" he asks. I smile.

"Good." I tell him. He nods and smiles back.

"Good." He answers and I know it's my turn in this game we're now playing. I bite my lip.

"What about you?" I ask him. He shrugs.

"Can't complain. Ron comes by a lot and we go play recreational Quidditch with the guys on Wednesdays. That's always fun. I wrote a book about defense and magic, and it's doing pretty well. They want to use it as a textbook this year. That's why I was at the bookstore, I was doing a signing." He tells me enthusiastically. Oh, so that's how he wants to play –with details and excitement and with such a friendly atmosphere it feels like I never left. I smile as I acknowledge these rules and lick my lips to prepare a better answer to his next question. "What do you do now? Y'know, for a living?" he asks. My eyes still can't look at him for longer than a moment but I give him a glance anyway, hoping he understands I'm not trying to be rude. I just can't handle the emotions that pulse through me when I take note of his eyes, his jawbone, or his broad shoulders and muscular arms. It's not just his physical appearance that makes me feel so small when I look at him. It's the way he is looking at me and the memories that rise up again if I look at him for too long. They scare me, and I have done a really good job trying to forget them. Suddenly I feel a tingling sensation in my stomach and the nerves are going wild. This is a bad idea. I start to feel claustrophobic and I shake my head violently as I stand up and head toward the door. He watches me.

"I have to go. I'm sorry, I just…I have to go." I stutter and reach for the doorknob. He rushes in front of me and stares me down with a fire in his eyes. I haven't felt this tiny since that day five years ago and I am trembling as I try to reach past him for the doorknob but his hand covers mine and stops my movements. The tears I was holding back are falling now and I let out a sob of my own and once again try to move past him. "Let me go."

"Not yet." He demands. My sobs are uncontrollable now and I don't even know why I'm crying so hard, but he cups my face in his hands. The moment his skin touches mine I feel an electric shock radiate from his fingers and I want to pull away. Something has me latching on to his touch, though, and suddenly I squirm because I want to be closer to him not because I want to break free. Against my heart, my head starts to scream at me to just leave and not to get wrapped up in this again, but I can't think straight anymore as his thumb brushes the tears off of my face. "Why did you come back, 'Mione?" he whispers. The words sound so delicate and I fear that I may break them if I answer too harshly. I shake my head and try getting my grasp back but he is staring at me with that look, the one that always melted my heart. His eyes are ten times greener than they ever have been and I become entranced. "Why did you come back, please…" he says desperately. Tears are falling down his face too and for the first time in five years I think maybe my leaving was just as hard for him as it was for me. I push that thought from my mind instantly. There is no way he felt anywhere near the agonizing pain I did. He had Ginny to keep him company, and from what he says about Ron and the boys he is obviously very social. I can't make friends. I have been a hermit for five years working a job I hate, and every day my dreams are plagued with images of the man standing before me. I have no friends. I have no…

I can't even think it because that makes it as real as saying it out loud would. He seems to be able to read my mind and I feel his arms wrap around me in a warm embrace. For a moment, I feel nothing but bliss and I almost inhale deeply so I can smell my favorite scent in the world, but something stops me. Logic finds its way back to me, finally, and I pull away from him quickly and wipe the tears from my face. I look at him now firmly, pushing the feelings and memories back into their cage as I let out a shaky breath.

"I…It's time to leave." I say. "Goodbye." With that I push past him and open the door, slamming it shut behind me. I hurry down the stairs and walk down the street with tears still flowing down my face and I stop at a streetlamp. I let out a sob and fall to the ground, my back up against the metal post with my hands running through my messy hair. It must have fallen out of its bun at some point. The night sky is crystal clear and a thousand stars are staring down at me, and to me it seems like they are judging my return. I let out a shaky breath and close my eyes. The back of my head hits the metal and I register a small pain but I don't think much of it.

I just saw Harry. It doesn't seem real to me and I bite my lip so hard blood trickles down. I curse myself for ever thinking coming back was a good idea. Yes, it's true that loneliness was taking its toll on me, and yes, it's true I was feeling weighed down by the simplicity of my everyday life. For seven years I was part of a trio that stood up against evil and outsmarted some of the world's greatest villains, and being a dentist just doesn't add up. I remember the day I left like it was yesterday. There was a point in my life when I thought being part of that trio was endangering too many people, and as I lean against the lamppost my thoughts travel back to five years ago.

_The war had just ended. Among the ruins of Hogwarts' castle I stood beside my best friend as he repaired his wand. He looked to me and Ron before he broke the Elder Wand in half and threw it over the edge of the bridge. I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, and for the first time in months we all let out a sigh of happiness and rejoiced in a bone crushing hug. _

_Ron pulled away first and left to go find his family. They had lost Fred and he knew they needed to be together, and Harry and I felt that we needed to give the Weasleys some space. We sat down on the edge of the bridge and didn't say anything. Harry looked at me and put his arm around me. I leaned in to his touch and my head rested on his shoulder. _

"_Thank you, 'Mione." He said. I smiled and looked up at him, my hand resting on his. _

"_Time of my life, Harry." I said with a smile. He laughed lightly and kissed the top of head. It was something he had never done before but for some reason it felt right, and I smiled even wider. He didn't stay there much longer and soon he left to go see if Ginny needed him. _

Ginny. My heart sinks as I think about her. We haven't spoke in five years, not since I left. Sighing, my mind wanders back to the day Voldemort was killed.

_I watched Harry get up and walk away from the rubble on the bridge toward to open doors where Ginny was waiting for him. I stood up slowly and followed him inside, where I was greeted by Neville and Luna who were rattling on about something or other. My eyes kept scanning the room for Harry. This was absolutely the most terrifying day of my life, and for some reason all I wanted to do was hold on to him forever and never let go. _

_I found him later by the door to Dumbledore's office. I walked up to him and I said nothing, but my hand found his and he pulled in for a hug. We stayed that way for a while, still not speaking, until Ginny arrived and stared at me with a fire in her eyes. I let go of Harry immediately and walked away as his girlfriend started to stake her claim, and as I looked back I saw Harry watching me as Ginny shoved her tongue down his throat. I gave him a small smile before I left, but my heart felt like it was breaking._

_This is stupid, I thought to myself. You don't love Harry. You can't. I told myself that over and over as I walked back toward the Grand Hall. I knew it was a lie. Those months when Ron was away I had been the person to hold him as his scar burned at night. Those months had shown me something I had been missing for years. I had told him maybe we should just stay in the forest and grow old, and he had shaken it off like it was just something I said. I had meant it, though. I had seen him at his worst and at his best, and I thought he was radiant in everything he did. _

_He was with Ginny, though. Ginny, my only girlfriend. I couldn't bring myself to accept my feelings for him without feeling like I was stabbing her in the back. So I pushed them aside. That all changed when he left to the Forbidden Forest and faced Voldemort one on one. The feelings came flooding out of me in the form of tears, and for the first time I let myself say the words I hadn't dared to say, even if only to myself. _

"_I love Harry Potter." _

The memories of that night start to make my head throb, and I bang it against the lamppost one more time for good measure. The air is getting colder and I start to shake a little as I sit on the ground. I feel the tears fall again when I think about the night it all changed, two weeks after the final battle. I'm about to let myself get lost in the feeling of regret when I hear footsteps behind me. I stay right where I am, worried if I get up too quickly I'll draw attention to myself.

"You're going to catch a cold." His voice says. I stiffen and don't move. He comes and sits down next to me. "I can't watch you walk away, 'Mione. Not again." He tells me. I inhale deeply and fight back the tears.

"How's Ginny?" I ask. Harry shrugs.

"Wouldn't know." He tells me. I look at him in surprise. "We broke up." I feel my heart tighten and guilt fills my entire body.

"Is that because of…." I start to say, my breath quickening. Harry looks at me.

"No." he says firmly. "Just wasn't right." I bite my lip and nod my head.

"And Ron?" I ask. Harry smiles.

"Same. He's coming over tomorrow if you…well, if you want to come back and see him." His voice is hesitant and his eyes are avoiding mine as he waits for my answer. I take another deep breath and let it out slowly trying to steady myself.

"Okay." I say, my heart beating rapidly. He looks at me.

"You mean it?" he says slowly. I nod my head and give him a shaky smile.

"Yeah." I tell him. He swallows hard and bears his eyes into mine. I look away quickly.

"Tomorrow, then." He says. He gets up and walks away, giving me one last look before he pushes the door open and disappears inside. I stay by the lamppost for a moment before I shake my head, trying to understand why I just said yes. I stand up slowly and begin to walk away, but not before looking at Harry's flat to note the address and the street. I sigh once more and turn away, ready for the night of sleep I know I'm not going to get.

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A/N: Thank you everyone for tuning in! Next chapter will be up shortly.


	2. Two

The Lost Years

Summary: After the war, Harry and Hermione's friendship was greatly altered. Now, five years later, they meet again for the first time and the flame begins to rekindle. H/Hr

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated characters. That all belongs to JK Rowling.

Author's Note: So, I'm setting this not in the timeline of the books, where Harry was born in 1980, but in the movies, where he was born in 1990. This would make the trio 23 in today's world of 2013. That's why I will make references to movies, television shows, electronics, etc. that are available now, and wouldn't have been in 2002, which would've been 5 years after the war in the book time. Thanks!

* * *

Two

The longer I stare at myself in the mirror the more my make-up bothers me. I don't want to wash it off again because every time I reapply it looks more superficial. I sigh to myself and put the tube of mascara down and bite my lip. I walk back to my suitcase to rummage through my options and as I move one of my favorite shirts to the side I see a zipper to a compartment I don't remember being there. Puzzled, I open it. My wand stares at me and calls out but I quickly close the flap and zip it back up. I remember putting it there now, but it was so long ago that my mind had blocked it out. I shudder at the thought of holding it again and grab the first top I see before slamming the suitcase shut.

I shouldn't be this nervous. Ron and I are fine. I didn't walk out on him like I did Harry. Still, the thought of hugging that impossible red-head is sending a new wave of emotions through me. I'm so stupid, I think to myself as I cover my face with foundation. It blends, finally, and I apply the black eyeliner and curl my eyelashes and I play out scenarios in my head.

"_Hi, Ron!" I say. _

"_Hermione!" he says. We hug. _

Or…

"_Um…Hi," I say. _

"_Hey." He says. Awkward handshake. _

Or…

"_Will you pass the cheese?" he says. I do so wordlessly. _

I groan to myself as the mascara lengthens my eyelashes. I blink once and take a deep breath, letting it out as I twist the cap. I stare at myself in the mirror.

"You can do this." I say quietly. My heart is still beating at a thousand miles an hour and I turn away from the mirror so I can get dressed. My shirt is soft against my skin and it begins to calm me down. I pull on my jeans and lace up my boots before I grab my coat and scarf and wrap both around my body. My purse is on the table by the door and I pick it up as I place my room key inside and walk out.

The hallway to the hotel elevator feels longer somehow and the button to go down looks menacing. The red light is like a warning to me, telling me I shouldn't be doing this. I stare at it, afraid for the ramifications if I touch it until the man standing next to me clears his throat.

"You gonna go down?" he asks gruffly. I look at him in surprise and nod apologetically, pushing the button at once. My stomach flips when the doors open and I step inside. The jazz music that is playing reminds me of that night with Harry five years ago and I start to feel sick again, but before I have a chance to vomit or pass out the door opens and I practically tumble out of the elevator. I'm beyond eager to get away from the sounds of the saxophone, and so I run to my car quickly and grab my phone.

"Okay…Harry's house…" I mumble to myself as I type the address in to my GPS. I feel nauseous but I ignore it, memorize the directions, and start the car.

The silence is killing me. All I hear is the hum of my engine as I drive. I see the lamppost from last night coming up on my left and I almost slam on the brake from the shock. Even though I knew where I was going, it came too fast. I cautiously park in front of Harry's building and get out of the car. The sky is bluer than I've ever seen it, but instead of marveling at it I slam my door shut and walk up the steps to Harry's flat. I tap the wooden door three times, and it opens almost instantly. My heart does another somersault when I see Harry staring at me, smiling widely, and he gestures for me to come inside.

"Thanks." I say slowly and look around. The ceiling really is ridiculously high and the molding does indeed have the crests of Hogwarts' founders on it. This makes me sad, but I hide it with a smile when I look at Ron.

"Blimey! Hermione!" he screams and jumps out of his seat. He catches me in a bone-crushing hug and I can't help but laugh and wrap my arms around him. This was better than any of the scenarios I had in my head. He pulls away and beams at me before grabbing my hand and pulling me to the couch. "Where the hell have you been?" he asks. I shrug.

"Nowhere." I say. He raises his eyebrows.

"I find that hard to believe." He tells me. I smile a little and shake my head.

"I'm a dentist." I say. "Like my parents were." I don't mean for it to happen, but my eyes grow dark at this and Ron gives me a sympathetic look.

"Oh, Hermione…I'm so sorry." He says softly. "How long has it been?"

"Five years." I say instantly, and my eyes purposely avoid Harry. He knew the night my parents died almost as well as I did.

"Shit," Ron begins, "Come here." He wraps me in a hug and I smile gratefully. Leave it to Ron to act like I never left. "Wanna drink?" he asks. I nod and watch him cross to the bar, noticing how Harry is leaning against the wall and staring at his feet. I wonder if he is thinking back to that night, too.

"Want one, Harry?" Ron asks. Harry's head snaps up and a fake smile is plastered on his face.

"Yeah, thanks." He says. Ron pours what looks to be brandy into three tumblers and hands one to Harry and then one to me. I put the glass to my lips when Ron looks at me pointedly.

"Ah-ah-ah," he says and waves his finger at me, "Toast first."

"What?" I cough, and Ron grins.

"To you, Hermione. Welcome home." He says and clinks his glass with mine. He does the same with Harry who smiles at me but I avoid his gaze and wash down every drop of brandy.

"What's dentistry like?" Harry asks me. I jump a little at his voice and wonder if Ron can feel the tension between us. He is walking back to the bar, though, so I'm starting to think he may be oblivious to everything but food and alcohol. I clear my throat, realizing I still haven't answered Harry's question.

"Oh you know…" I say. "There's teeth, and cavities…." I swallow my saliva hard as Harry stabs me with those emerald eyes. "No one has ever bit me, so that's good…" I say slowly and Harry nods.

"Yeah," he says.

"Yeah." I reply. This is so awkward it's embarrassing. Ron is on his third glass of brandy and he is watching us carefully, and suddenly I realize he must know what happened five years ago. This makes my head start to spin and guilt flood through me but I grip my tumbler tight to stop from shaking. "What do you do?" I ask, getting the subject away from me.

"I'm a writer." Harry says. Duh, I think.

"Oh right," I say slapping my forehead. "Your book signing." He smiles at me.

"I have a copy if you want to read it," he said smugly, and for the first time since we were thrown together I give him a genuine smile.

"Don't get cocky," I tease and he pouts at me in response. Suddenly we both break out into a fit of laughter, and Ron brings the brandy bottle over to us. We slosh down a few more drinks and all the awkward tension melts away. The three of us reminisce about what Ron calls 'the good old days,' and catch up on our current lives. I laugh so hard at one point Brandy almost comes out of my nose and then I start to cry from the pain, but that only makes Ron and Harry laugh harder as I hit them both with a pillow.

"S'not funny!" I cry. "It really burns!" They continue to laugh and the pain is getting a little unbearable so I stand up to splash my face with water.

"Hermione, come back!" Ron says laughing. I turn around before I have a chance to get water and watch Harry and Ron laugh at me when Ron pulls out his wand and points it at my face. "Let me help." He says. It's all so much. The alcohol, the laughter, but the idea of magic…

"NO!" I scream and push him away as he walks toward me. The laughter dies immediately and I stare at him. He stares back.

"I'm sorry." He says. My face is flushed and the passageway from my throat to my nose is burning still but I ignore it. I move past Ron and grab my purse.

"It was really wonderful to catch up." I say. "It's late, though." I start for the door.

"Hermione, I'm sorry!" Ron says. I stop in my tracks and turn around slowly. "I didn't mean to upset you." I watch the light that was in his eyes die and I look to Harry. He looks like he just lost his best friend, which in a way I guess he has. I nod slowly and my purse falls to the ground. Mustering up my courage I sit back down on the couch and flip on Harry's telly. Downton Abbey is on and I settle into watching it, but the moment I see Matthew look at Mary or Branson look at Sybil my eyes inadvertently want to look at Harry. The drama puts Ron to sleep and soon his snores are speaking louder than the actors and I mute the telly and look over at Harry.

"I really should go." I whisper, afraid to wake Ron. Harry looks at me and nods slowly, but part of me senses he wants to say more. "What is it, Harry?" I ask him. He sighs and looks at me with that once familiar twinkle in his eye.

"I want to show you something tomorrow." He announces. I give him a strange look.

"Show me something?" I ask. He nods happily.

"Yeah, I think you'd really like it." He says. I smile and look over at Ron.

"Will Sleeping Beauty come along, too?" I ask. Harry shakes his head.

"Nah, he's got work all day tomorrow." He tells me. My nose crinkles and I shake my head in disbelief.

"I can't believe he works at the Ministry!" I cry, thinking back to earlier in the night when the three of us had talked about our current lives. When Ron told me where he worked I had shaken my head and couldn't stop from doing so now. "It's so unlike him!" Harry shrugs.

"When Fred died he got really into the magical protection for families. Sort of like insurance, you know? He's actually really good at it." Harry reveals. I look over at Ron and smile sadly.

"Good for him," I mumble. I feel Harry shift on the couch next to me and my attention goes back to him. He looks like he wants to say more. I'm afraid, though, having brought up Fred's death that he's going to bring up memories I have locked away and so I flash him a smile and stand up. My purse is still on the ground and I reach down to pick it up. When I stand Harry is right there, his eyes locking with mine instantly. I bite my lip, a new tension rising between us. This is one I haven't felt in five years.

"See you tomorrow." He whispers. I gulp and give a shaky smile before looking over at Ron. I suppressed the laugh I wanted to let free when I saw how he was laying, with one leg on the couch and his torso falling off, mouth open. I look back at Harry.

"Tomorrow." I say, smiling. Before either of us has a chance to do something stupid I turn around and walk out, closing the door behind me.

* * *

I wake up when my phone starts to ring. The curtains in my hotel room are drawn shut but a small amount of light is peeking through the windows and is spilling onto my face, which only serves to wake me up more. I roll over in the mess of sheets and blankets I am bundled up in and reach for my phone, almost dropping it before I slide the arrow over to answer it.

"'Ellllo?" I slur. My voice is raspy and my consciousness not completely with me, so the voice on the other end catches me completely off guard.

"Hey, Hermione, it's me." It says. My heart flutters.

"Harry?" I ask, my brain fuzzy as I rub my eyes. "How did you get my number?"

"Oh, you gave it to me last night." He says simply. I furrow my eyebrows and try to rack my brain for any recollection of that, but it's throbbing too much for me to think straight.

"I did?" I ask. "Oh." There is silence on the other end for a moment and I wonder if I've offended him, but he comes back after a few seconds.

"So, listen, you mentioned you were staying at the Millerton Hotel," Harry began. I interrupt him.

"I did? When?" I ask.

"Last night," he says kindly. I groan. I hate hangovers. "So, I was thinking…I'm going to be on that part of town for a book signing anyway, what if I picked you up for lunch before I show you that thing?" he asks. If my headache wasn't so harsh, I would've noticed the longing in his voice. Instead I simply continue the conversation without it fazing me.

"What time?" I croak.

"My signing is from 10-12, so maybe 12:30?" he offers. I nod my head but soon realize he can't see it.

"Sure." I say. I can almost feel his grin through my phone, but part of me thinks it's just my head messing with me. "What time is it now?" I ask.

"Uh…" Harry says, and I assume he's checking his watch. "6:15." He replies. I groan.

"You called me at 6:15 to ask me for a lunch date? Harry –"I say, and if it wasn't for my headache I'd probably be amused. He takes no notice.

"Great!" he says instead. "I'll pick you up then. Bye, 'Mione!" he hangs up and I toss the phone at the foot of the bed. My head is throbbing uncontrollably and I groan once more but the sound is too loud for my ears so I pull a pillow over me. I fall back asleep eventually and before I know it, it's nearly ten o'clock. I sit up slowly and feel my brain rattle inside my skull, but my headache has diminished some. Sighing, I pull back the covers and drag my feet to the bathroom, where I splash my face with water before getting in the shower. I massage my scalp with my shampoo and conditioner and the movements soothe my still throbbing head some, and once the last of my body wash had been rinsed away I twist the knobs to the right and the water turns off. I wrap a soft white towel around myself and leave the bathroom door open so it can air out. I know I need to take some aspirin, but I also know I have to eat before I can so I grab a granola bar from my bag and scarf it down. The pills come next and I wash them back with some gross tap water before I get dressed. I stand there clad in my black jeans, trainers, and purple bra, staring at a wide range of shirts. I don't know why the desire to dress up has found me and I know it can't be for a good reason, but I can't stop myself. My fingers rub the material of one of my favorite shirts, a soft pink color with thin ruffles along the plunging neckline. I should wear a tank-top with it, I think, and grab one that matches. I pull the shirt over my head and then run a brush through my hair. I'm not as nervous to see Harry today, and that gives me comfort. I apply a small amount of make-up, not wanting to overdo it too much. I already though the frilly shirt might send a vibe I was trying to avoid, and I almost changed it when I heard a knock on my hotel room door.

"Hello!" Harry chimes when I open it. I stare at him amused.

"Couldn't ask the front desk to call, eh?" I ask him, swinging my purse over my shoulder as I close the door. He grins.

"Nah, there was a line." He says. I give him a curious look, trying to see if he was lying.

"How did you know what room I was in, then?" I ask, my mouth curling into that smirk I used to give him during Transfiguration. His eyes darken.

"It's me." He says, and I knew what he meant. He used magic. I was grateful he didn't say it though and just nodded my head. We walked to his car in silence after that, and I had to stop to stare when I saw him open the door.

"You own a Porsche?" I gawk. He nods.

"Wasn't my choice…" he says dully, and for some reason I knew what he meant. Ginny made him buy it, if I was reading the lines correctly. I don't say anything as I buckle up on the passenger side. Harry starts the car and I am immediately drawn back to the night of the Yule Ball. The same band from that night, the same song, came blasting through the speakers all around me. His face turns pale and he quickly changes the station to something from this decade. I stare at him, wondering if he had planted that there, but I decide not to say anything and look out the window.

"Where are we going to eat?" I ask, trying to distract from the awkwardness that was beginning to form. Harry gives me a quick glance and smiles.

"Somewhere small." He replies. I nod my head and continue to stare out the window. He turns the car onto a street I recognize from five years ago and I feel my heartbeat quicken. He parks in front a small French bakery, and I feel my mouth drop. I remember this place.

"_Look at how good those scones look!" I said. Harry stopped walking and came up next to me. It was a few days after the final battle, and he had asked me if I wanted to go shopping for new clothes with him. When I had asked why he didn't want Ginny to go, he said she would make him wear too much bedazzled clothing. I laughed and agreed. _

_The scone was strawberry and it had one of the flakiest textures I had ever seen. My mouth watered just from looking at it, but when I looked at the sign in the window it said they were closed. I sighed and looked at Harry. _

"_We'll come back." He told me and I beamed. We left the café and walked down the street to look for some clothes. _

We never came back. That night had happened before we were given a chance to. Now, we were here. I felt my throat tighten as the feelings began to overwhelm me.

"Remember this place?" Harry asks me. I nod.

"Y-yeah…" I stutter. "I can't believe you did." I tell him.

"There are many parts of you I remember, 'Mione." He says. I stare at him. He couldn't have meant that as suggestively as it sounded, could he? I can't deny the blush that had crept on his face and I bite my lip, not quite sure how to respond. He changes the subject entirely and grabs my hand, pushing the small door open. A tiny silver bell chimes as the door swings shut, and a small woman greets us by the podium.

"Bonjour!" she says. I smile at Harry as he clears his throat.

"Hi, two please." He says. The woman looks at him.

"Je ne pas parle d'anglais." She tells us. I give Harry a sympathetic smile.

"Let me," I say. "Bonjour, mademoiselle. Nous voudrais un table pour deux, s'il vous plait." I say. Harry stares at me, and the woman smiles and leads us to our table. She hands us our menus and I smile at her. "Merci beaucoup." I say. She smiles and nods before she walks away. Harry stares at me.

"When did you learn French?" he asks. I shrug.

"I just picked up a few things." I tell him. His eyes stare at me in amazement and I look away, embarrassed. "I'm getting that scone." I say, a gleam in my eye. He beams.

"I'd expect nothing less." He says. When the woman comes back with some water I order one scone for each of us and bite my lip as Harry takes a sip of his.

"Harry?" I begin. He looks at me. " Why writing?" I ask. He swallows and looks surprised by the question. He set the glass down as he ponders an answer.

"I dunno…" he began. "After the war there was so much I wanted to say but no one to really say it to. Writing it out, my experiences, my thoughts, the stuff I learned and felt…It was a sort of therapy for me. Especially after-" he starts to say, but he clears his throat and stops himself.

"After what?" I ask him. He shakes his head and takes another sip of water.

"Nothing." He says. His eyes avoid mine and tell me all I needed to know. He meant after I left. It sends another wave of guilt through me and I drown it with water. The waitress appears and places two small plates in front of us, and I smile my appreciation to her.

"Merci." I say and she says something else to me but I don't understand so I shake my head and she gets the message. With a smile she winks at Harry and I feel my face flush. She was complimenting me on my date. I clear my throat.

"I know I teased you before," I say to Harry. "But I would like to read it." His eyes widen and a smile appears on his face.

"You'll like my surprise then." He says with a smirk. I groan, imagining Harry handing me a pile of autographed copies of his book like Lockhart. This thought sends a shiver down my spine. I hadn't thought about that in years. He laughs at my response and takes a bite of his scone. He moans in delight, and I feel the hair on my arm stand up. I've heard that sound before. Once, many moons ago.

"Is it good?" I ask, a little more breathy than I anticipated. He notices and gulps down his bite hard, his eyes staring at me.

"Yeah…" he replies heavily. "Try some." I do. I can barely suppress a moan myself as the strawberry taste fills my mouth and the flaky texture comes apart, welcoming me to a new world of flavor. I don't moan, though, in fear of starting something I won't be able to stop. Harry watches me carefully, but seeing my lack of reaction he settles on eating and not watching. We finish in a matter of minutes and I see the waitress coming back.

"L'addition, s'il vous plait." I say, asking for the check. She nods and comes back a moment later. Suddenly, I feel my stomach flip over. Is this a date? This is so not a date. No, I think. Definitely NOT a date. My eyes watch carefully as Harry reaches into his pocket and pulls out just enough money to pay for one scone. I sigh in relief. It's not a date.

After we pay Harry leads me outside. I begin to walk back toward his slick ride when I hear him whistle to call me back.

"You coming?" he asks me, pointing ahead. I smile.

"You picked a place tasty and convenient. Nice." I say, laughing as Harry rolls his eyes.

"Come on, you'll love it." He tells me. I shake my head as if to say 'yeah right' and follow him down the street. My mind thinks back to the last time we were here and we went shopping. Subconsciously my head turns to look in the window of a shop we went into and Harry tricked me into trying on a bikini. I blush when I notice him looking at me.

"I like that store." He says fondly. My blush deepens.

"Its alright." I say back. Harry smirks again as we turn the corner.

"Here we are!" he exclaims and raises his arms up as if presenting a masterpiece.

"What is it?" I ask. Harry laughs. To me, it looks like an abandoned office building. The outside is a boring gray color with tinted windows and a metal door. I raise my eyebrows at him.

"Open the door and trust me." He says playfully, nudging me toward the entrance. I shake my head and do as he says, and my mouth drops open.

It is the most exquisite library I have ever seen. It looks like it belongs in The Beauty and the Beast. All around me there are gold walls covered from top to bottom in nothing but the most beautifully bound books. I take a step down the steps slowly, scanning my surroundings as I turn in a slow circle. A grin breaks out on my face and I look at Harry. He is watching me timidly.

"You still like to read, right?" he asks. I laugh and nod enthusiastically.

"Harry it's…Oh, my god." I say. It has everything. Tolstoy, Tolkien, Austen, Chekhov, Shakespeare, even books by magical authors like Rita Skeeter. I laugh when I see Harry grimace at one of her books. "It's…" I want to say magical, but I banned that word from my vocabulary five years ago so I settle on something else. "It's perfect." He beams at me.

"I thought you'd like it. You can visit anytime you like. Owner's permission" He says. My eyes widen.

"You own this?" I ask amazed. He shrugs.

"After the war I received so many books from so many people. They were thank you's, apologies, some were from people who just thought I should educate myself now that my life wasn't in danger…It added up. Eventually I had too much for just myself and I knew the best choice was to open a library." He says. I stare at him in shock. He is amazing. Truly, unequivocally amazing. A warm feeling begins to settle in my stomach and I smile at him.

"Unbelievable," I say softly. There is a glisten in his eyes that wasn't there a moment ago and I smile before turning back to the rows of books. After a few minutes I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around. Harry is there, holding out a book. I take it and look at the cover.

The Curse of the Lighting Bolt

An Autobiography and Tutorial Guide to Survival Against the Dark Arts

by Harry J. Potter.

"As promised," Harry says, a wolfish grin smothered on his handsome features. I smirk and shake my head.

"Thank you," I tease back and he beams at me.

"Mhm!" he hums and sends that warm feeling back to me. His expression turns serious for a moment. "Do you wanna go?"

I stare at him. He is only asking to be polite, and the falter in smile has nothing to do with the idea of leaving, right? Finally I smile and shake my head.

"Not yet," I reply and turn back to books.

* * *

Harry drops me off a few hours later. He insists on walking me to my hotel door, even though I tell him I have it.

"I don't want you to get snatched!" he tells me.

"By all the people?" I say, looking around. Its dark outside and there is literally no one in sight. He frowns.

"Please?" he whimpers and I groan in jestful frustration.

"Alright you big baby!" I say and lead him to the elevator. The button doesn't scare me as I press it, and my hand almost grabs Harry's as the doors seal us inside. I think better of it and stand there quietly. When the elevator opens I step out and walk wordlessly to my room where I swipe the key card and open the door. I step into the threshold, but before I close the door I turn and look at Harry. His emerald eyes are sad, and I give him a quizzical look.

"What's wrong?" I say softly. He shakes his head and shrugs.

"Like the gift?" he asks. I laugh heartily.

"Of course!" I say. "It was…it was incredible." Harry beams at me.

"Good." He says. I can feel the tension in the air. It's not bad tension, but that tension that comes after the first date. I frown, because this was not supposed to be a date and I decide to end his longing looks for the night.

"Harry?" I say. His eyes are fuzzy as they look at mine.

"Yeah?" he asks. I smile and step farther into the room.

"It's good to see you." I reply. He gets the hint and takes a step back, still smiling at me.

"You too, 'Mione. See you tomorrow?" he asks and I laugh.

"Yeah." I say and give him one last smile before I close the door. I hear his footsteps as he walks down the hallway and I let out a sigh. I was getting in too deep again, and I took a shower to calm my nerves.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you are all enjoying this story! The next chapter will be up ASAP. Also, the accents on the French dialogue are not correct, when I tried to fix the language settings everything got all screwy so I just left it. Thanks!


	3. Three

The Lost Years

Summary: After the war, Harry and Hermione's friendship was greatly altered. Now, five years later, they meet again for the first time and the flame begins to rekindle. H/Hr

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated characters. That all belongs to JK Rowling.

Author's Note: I'm very excited about this story, actually. I hope you are too! Please enjoy chapter 3!

* * *

Three

"You could stay with me." Ron says as I pace in my hotel room. I stop and stare at him, my heart racing at the thought of living in the magical world again. I give him a small smile.

"Ron, I appreciate that it's just…" I say, biting my lip as I try to think of the best way to handle this. "I'm not ready to go back so… intimately, you know?" He looks at me and nods, taking a swig of the root beer he bought from the vending machine.

"You can't stay here, the bills will murder you." He says kindly, and I groan. He's right. My hotel bill is astronomically high and the more days I stay the more it adds up. Ron sets the root beer down and shrugs. "What about Harry? He lives in the muggle world. He just works in the magical one." I stare at him. Yes, that's true. In fact, I admired that about Harry. He had chosen to settle down among muggles because it gave him a normality he had never really had, and he chose to work within the magical world because he knew he would be able to do more there, but I know even the _thought_ of living with Harry is a stupid and irreparable decision. The skin on my lower lip is peeling off as I bite it and mull over how to explain to Ron the idiocy of that idea.

"I wouldn't want to intrude." I say. Ron snorts as he shifts on the loveseat by the window.

"The man has spent every waking minute with you for two weeks and you think you'd be intruding?" he scoffs. I frown and collapse on the cushion next to him.

"It's complicated, Ronald." I groan. He nods slowly and picks up his root beer again. His eye is gleaming as he nudges me with his knee.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks carefully. I lean back into the soft couch and run my hand through my hair. Talk about what? How Harry and I had one night together five years ago after my parents died? How I left because I was too ashamed and broken to face anyone? How I came back because I have no fucking clue who I am anymore? How Harry and I are like 'best friends' again and its making me question everything and is giving me a huge headache all day long? How I still blame myself for my parent's deaths? How I can't use magic because it's hurt too many people? How I am slowly, but surely, losing my mind? I swallow dry saliva and let out a breath.

"No." I say. My voice sounds wobbly and my eyes are itching so I stand up and cross to the small kitchenette. Ron watches me with concern.

"Hermione?" he says softly. I am filling up one of my mugs with water and putting it in the microwave. "Hermione, look at me." He pleads. I turn around and do so, scared of what he is going to say. "It's not your fault." My throat tightens at these words and I have to blink quickly so the tears won't fall. I inhale and stand there, afraid to reply. "He was pretty messed up after you left." He tells me. I turn my head up to the ceiling so I won't have to look at him. Ron crosses to the counter and places a hand on mine. "But none of it is your fault. He understood. He just missed you." His voice is careful and that makes my heart hurt. I give him a glance and pull my hand away from his so I can grab the mug when the timer goes off.

"It's more than that, Ron." I say quietly. He stiffens when I turn back to look at him. "It's so much more than that." He nods.

"Tell me?" he asks. My eyes meet his and I let out a small sigh.

"I just…" I try to say, but the words are jumbled in my brain. Shaking my head I place a tea bag in my mug and cross back to the couch. Ron follows but doesn't sit, he just watches me. I stare at the tea as it seeps and turns the water a beautiful oak color. The smell is calming me some, but I know the moment I look at Ron I'm going to feel anxious again. How do I even begin? I gulp and give him a very unconvincing smile and he sits down next to me.

"You okay?" he asks me. I sigh.

"I quit my job." I say. He gives me a look of surprise.

"Why?" he asks. I sip my tea and shrug.

"It happened before I came here…I didn't say anything because I didn't think I would be here this long…I just… I don't know who I am anymore, Ron…" I tell him and the tears begin to form in my eyes. I bite my lip and blink them away. Ron wraps a friendly arm around me.

"You're Hermione Granger. You are the brightest witch of your age." He says. That stings. I remind myself that Ron doesn't know anything about the night my parents died, except maybe for what happened with Harry, so I don't say anything. How could he know the reason I don't use magic? He probably thought he was complimenting me. Mustering all my strength not to yell at him I just shake my head.

"Not anymore. And I don't want to talk about this." I say. Ron nods.

"If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here. In case, you know…It's hard to discuss with Harry or something." He offers. I give him a look of gratitude and lean my head on his shoulder.

"Do you know if there are any available flats anywhere?" I ask. He laughs lightly and shakes his head.

"I don't live here." He reminds me. I nod and groan at the same time. If I ask Harry if he knows of any he might offer to let me stay with him. It's an irrational thought but it's a thought nonetheless, and I decide to grab my laptop from the coffee table. Ron stares at it. "Muggles…" he mumbles and I smirk.

"Deal with it." I reply and he laughs. He stays with me while I search on the internet for available flats in the area but he has to leave for a meeting with the Ministry after an hour or so. When he is gone I stare at the screen on my laptop, but I'm not reading any of the words. My mind is trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life, and it makes me antsy.

Spending so much time with Harry has been wonderful, but all it's done is confuse me. I'm feeling things I haven't felt in years, I'm smiling like an idiot all the time and I hate it. I wasn't even supposed to see him at all. I didn't come back to reconnect. I wasn't planning on staying. Then again, I wasn't planning on quitting my job, and the moment I did I spontaneously went to Hogsmeade. I had felt like something was missing and I thought if I saw Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley again it might remind me of who I used to be, because I'm at a loss for who I am now. It's been years in the making, but my ability to trust myself and understand what I want out of life is deteriorated. It's entirely my fault too, and it's up to me to fix. I know that spending time with the only man I have ever been in love with is probably not the best way to figure things out, but it's such a delicious dynamic when I'm with him that I can't walk away.

His eyes are like a warm blanket. Whenever I look at them I feel safe despite how much I know I shouldn't. His voice is velvet, his touch is electric. I am in so deep again that it's like falling in quicksand and it gets hard to breathe when he is around. It's intoxicating, and it's addicting. It doesn't matter how much I learned from the past, it all went out the window the moment he bumped into me in the bookstore.

I bury my face in a pillow as I think these things. I hate this. The worst part is that I don't regret coming back and staying in this hotel as long as I can see him every day. That is EXACTLY the thing I wanted to avoid, and precisely the reason I left in the first place. My feelings for Harry are harmful, and not only to myself. I sigh deeply and sit up. I finished my tea a while ago so I pick up the ceramic mug and walk to the sink. As I rinse it out I hear a knock on the door. I frown, wondering if Ron forgot something and walk to it. When I open it my heart flips over.

"Hey!" Harry says happily. I gawk at him. He wasn't supposed to be home for another two days. He was supposed to be in Germany talking about his book.

"What happened to the promotion?" I question him. He grins.

"The snowstorm." He replies, as if it was obvious.

"There's a snowstorm?" I ask. He laughs at me and points to the window. I still have the curtains closed and I give Harry a look before I cross to them and pull them open. Sure enough, there is nothing but a white cloud of snowflakes in sight, and I sigh. I had been hoping a couple days apart from Harry would do me good, but it looks like the fates have something else in mind. I turn back to him.

"Why didn't you just apparate? Ron did." I ask. He gives me a wide stare.

"Ron was here?" he asks. I nod and he shakes his head. "He's crazy, then. You of all people should know how dangerous it is to apparate in a heavy snowfall, 'Mione. We did it all the time, and almost suffocated every single time." He says amazed at my ignorance. I stiffen but he either doesn't notice or chooses not to. "Can I come in or will I just have to stand out here awkwardly?" he asks. I roll my eyes.

"You can come in." I say. He shoots me one of those smiles that make my knees turn weak and he sits down on the couch. I turn away from him, my thoughts from earlier still very much in mind. When I hear him clear his throat I turn back around slowly. "What?" I ask. He is frowning and staring at my computer, and my heart sinks. Oh, no.

"Are you looking for a new flat, 'Mione?" he asks softly. My heart is racing against my chest as I try to come up with a passable lie but the longer I stand there silently the more answers I give him. "There is one on the floor below mine, if you're interested." He says.

My mouth opens to protest immediately until I process what it is he actually said. He didn't ask me to move in with him, but merely offered to help. I sigh in relief and take a seat next to him. Maybe all the weirdness is just in my head. The feelings I think I'm feeling are entirely unjustified, but maybe it's okay that I'm part of Harry's life again. Not that I wouldn't be at this rate. I smile at him gratefully.

"That would be wonderful, actually." I say.

"Sure." He says with a smile. "Does this mean you're moving here?" he asks carefully. I sigh.

"Well, I mean…I still own my parent's house but…" I look away from him, embarrassment flooding to my cheeks in the form of a blush. "I can't seem to stay away from this place." I tell him slowly. I mentally slap myself. He doesn't smile; in fact he looks at me like I just shot his dog.

"Oh." He says. "Cool." I feel my stomach churn.

"Is that okay?" I ask. He nods his head and run his hand through his hair.

"Y-yeah!" he exclaims. "I just…I don't really get it." He tells me. My brow comes together and I tilt my head.

"Why?" I ask. He sighs.

"Your job is there, you have a house…You don't like magic…" he says, slightly flustered. I nod.

"I'm not moving to the magical world. I'm just moving here. Maybe." I say. Harry stares at me.

"Why? The commute to your office is gonna suck." He says. I feel the skin on my lips peel again as my teeth graze it.

"I quit my job." I say. His mouth snaps shut and his eyes are wild. He doesn't say anything, and for a moment I think he's about to scream. He sits back on the couch though and places his feet on the coffee table.

"That settles that, then." He says. I look at him, but I don't want to push the subject anymore so I just nod.

"Want take-out?" I ask. He smiles.

"Snowstorm, 'Mione." He tells me and I look away from him.

"Right…I'll just, er…Order room service or something." I say and walk to the phone to order dinner and I feel Harry's eyes digging into me but I ignore it. I have no idea why he just reacted the way he did, but it's leaving an unsettling feeling in my stomach. I want to turn around and tell him everything, but I keep my tongue inside my mouth and hang up the phone.

"Twenty minutes." I say to him and he nods. "Harry?" I ask. He looks up at me.

"Hm?" he hums.

"Nothing…." I say and give a small laugh. He tilts his head back and looks at me. Our eyes meet and I feel that warm feeling in my stomach that I so desperately wish I would push aside, and before I know it I am smiling like an idiot again.

"Soooo…." I start. I have to change the subject. I have to distract myself from his gorgeous eyes. "Germany just isn't going to read your book or something?" I ask. He bursts into laughter and lowers his feet off the table.

"No, they already have it. Sales there are almost as much as they are here, actually. I was just going to raise the stakes." He tells me with a wink. I give him an 'I'm not impressed' look, even though I actually am. "Speaking of," he says. "Have you read it yet?" My face falls and I look to my feet. I read only two pages of Harry's book, and while it was excellently written, it was hard for me to get through. It was like opening up his diary, delving into his soul, and it was all about the part of my life I had walked away from. He mentioned me almost immediately and it send my head spinning. That was when I closed the cover and I haven't opened it since.

"No," I say.

"Aw, why not?" he asks with a sarcastic grin. I know he doesn't mean to, but the smile makes me really sad. I want to tell him the real reason I haven't read it, I want to open up and tell him why I left, why I came back, how bumping into him was an accident I hadn't prepared for, and how having him in my hotel room was driving me insane. I want to apologize for hurting his relationship with Ginny. I want to tell him I think I may still…

Nope. Don't think it. I can't tell him any of these things. So I just shrug and smile.

"A certain person hasn't really left me alone long enough to have a chance." I say. It's not a lie, it's just not the whole truth. He smiles shyly.

"Sorry…" he whispers. I smirk.

"Not you!" I say. He looks at me with fear in his eye. "I'm just kidding, Harry." I laugh. He relaxes and eventually smiles. We stay there in silence for a moment before I sit down next to him.

"What was Ron here for?" he asks suddenly. I shrug.

"Just stopped by. We talked a little about me moving here. I think he's keen." I reply. Harry looks at me seriously and I am suddenly captivated by him. The snow is falling outside the glass window behind him, making him look like an angel waiting to take me away. I swallow hard as the warm feeling returns and unconsciously run my tongue over my lips. His eyes glance down as it does and he looks back up instantly, but there is a fire in his eyes that wasn't there before. I know that look, and it takes all my self-control to scoot away from him and walk to the door and wait for the food to arrive. Harry straightens up and clears his throat, and he distracts himself with a magazine. The minutes pass slowly and it feels like a year of my life has been taken from me when the knock on the door finally sounds. I answer it, take the bags from the poor bellhop who looks frustrated and give him a little extra in a tip for his trouble, even though I can't really afford it. I set the trays on the counter and open the lids. Harry grabs some paper plates and scoops himself some spaghetti and makes a plate for me while I watch him. The silence isn't awkward, it's just unsettling.

"Thanks!" I say brightly when he hands me my plate. Now it's awkward. He gives me a strange look and takes a bite of his food and I blush. I tell myself I can't let a moment like that happen again and I decide the best thing to do is just move on. Before I have a chance to change the subject, Harry speaks.

"So, listen," he says. "Neville is getting married."

"What?!" I exclaim, my mouth full of food. "When, to whom?" I ask.

"Luna," he tells me with a giant grin on his face. This is probably some of the best news I've heard in five years, and I grin too.

"Good for him." I say. Harry nods.

"Yeah! Anyway, I have an invitation for me plus one and I was thinking –" He starts to say. I drop my fork.

"Oh." I whisper. I want to run away because I already know what his next question is going to be but I stay where I am and play with my food.

"I was wondering if you would want to come?" he asks me. His voice is heavy and there is a longing that makes my heart break. I want to say yes, I haven't seen Neville or Luna is five years, but so much of me is screaming not to go.

"Will it be, um…" I start to ask and Harry understands.

"Magic? Yes." He says shortly. I nod my head while my brain screams for me to run away. My heart starts to beat faster and I take such a big bite of spaghetti the sauce runs down my face. I reach for a napkin and see Harry smiling lightly, and suddenly my heart slows a little.

It wouldn't be bad, seeing Neville and Luna. And technically I was already in the magical world a couple of weeks ago when I met Harry again. And I do, eventually, want to go back. I think. Maybe. Okay, so I don't really want to go back, but the way Harry is looking at me is making all rational thought start to leave my mind. I sigh and start to chew on the gums on the inside of my cheeks.

"Well…" I say once the pasta has been gulfed down. "When is it?" I ask. Harry's face turns a violent shade of red as if he is embarrassed.

"The day after tomorrow." He says. I close my eyes and nod my head slowly. I have to weigh the pros and the cons.

"Where?" I ask, somewhat hesitantly. Harry brightens and shoots me a smile.

"Some church somewhere." He says. I sigh in relief that it isn't at Hogwarts or something like that.

"Tell you what," I begin. "I'll think about it and tell you tomorrow?" Harry smiles.

"That would be perfect." He says. I want to kick myself. His smile is just a little too bright, his eyes are a little too twinkling, for me to even consider saying no to him. I purse my lips and focus on my spaghetti again because if I look at Harry I'm just going to get carried away in my thoughts. We finish eating in silence, and all the while I'm imagining the look Harry might give me if I wear a dress to Neville's wedding.

Damn it all.

"I'll go." I say suddenly after nearly fifteen minutes of silence. Harry stares at me in surprise.

"Wha—" he starts, "Are you sure?" I nod.

"Yeah. It'll be nice to see Neville and Luna again, and one day with magic won't kill me, right?" I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince him or myself, but Harry's eyes grow dark.

"Great." He says sadly. I feel the crease on my forehead appear as I give him a strange look.

"You okay?" I ask. Why is he sad? This is good, this is what he wanted! He clenches his jaw and looks at me.

"Never better!" he says, and the light appears again in his eyes. I give him an uneasy smile but I don't want to push anything so I settle down in front of the telly and turn it on. Harry sits next to me and we watch some romantic comedy that builds the tension even higher, but after it's over I announce I'm going to sleep and Harry leaves.

I don't sleep. Not that night and not the night after that. My nerves are going completely wild now that I've agreed to go to this wedding, and I find myself wrapped in a white cotton towel with my hair dripping wet again. It's eight-thirty in the morning, and I have to be ready by one so Harry can pick me up. I only have one dress and it's not nearly formal enough, so I make the impulsive decision to go to the store and buy one I like. I have time, after all. Quickly I pull on some jeans and a t-shirt and bolt to the elevator, not stopping to care about the red light or talk to anyone as they pass me by.

* * *

The clock reads 12:54. My stomach is churning and my heart is racing, and I am staring at myself in the mirror. The dress is sage green, and part of me wonders if I chose it because it's close to the color of Harry's eyes. I shake that thought off and turn to the side, where I see the bow in the back is tied crookedly so I quickly fix it and turn back to the front. I find myself judging my figure the way I always have, and I wish I had bigger breasts to fill out the top. However, I like that the skirt is tea-length and flares out like a dress from the 40s, and as I bite my lip I take a step back to decide if I need anything else.

The knock at my door sends my stomach to my throat. Quickly I readjust my pearl necklace and take one last fleeting look in mirror, noting that this is the first time I'm going to see so many people in five years, and I'm glad my hair is in an elegant curly bun instead of its usual wild mane. I cross to the door and open it, and a giant smile appears on my face.

Harry is wearing a brown corduroy suit with a white dress shirt and a brown tie. His jet black hair is as sexy as always, and he is wearing contacts so his eyes are even more piercing than they usually are. I gulp a little as my eyes move down his body and I once again take note of how fit he is, but when my eyes meet his I feel my heart skip a beat. He is looking at me the same way he did that night, and I almost close the door on him.

"You look—" he tries to say, but his voice is small and makes my knees feel like jell-o. I nod my head.

"That bad?" I ask, even though I know he doesn't think so judging by the look he is giving me. He shakes his head.

"N-no…" he mutters. "You look radiant, 'Mione. Truly." My mind flashes back to moments from the past and I feel the blush reach my cheeks. I smile and look down at my feet, where black satin pumps come into my sight.

"Thank you." I say, and look up smiling. "You look rather dashing yourself." He beams at me when I say this, and he opens out his arm for me to grab onto.

"Shall we?" he asks. I nod and gulp, nerves settling about my stomach. Harry notices and gives my hand a squeeze as we walk down the hallway.

"Don't worry. I'll be there the whole time. And if it gets to be too much, just say the word and we'll come back early, okay?" he tells me seriously. I look up at him gratefully.

"Thank you, Harry." I whisper.

"Anytime." He replies.

A/N: Thank you for reading everyone! Please review, and the next chapter will be here soon! (I have about half of it written)


	4. Four

The Lost Years

Summary: After the war, Harry and Hermione's friendship was greatly altered. Now, five years later, they meet again for the first time and the flame begins to rekindle. H/Hr

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated characters. That all belongs to JK Rowling.

Author's Note: I'm not quite sure how many chapters I want this story to have. It'll probably be within the 7-10 range. Please enjoy Chapter 4!

* * *

Four

I never thought floo powder could look so menacing. I feel my body tremble as I watched Harry grab a handful of the stuff from the shelf by his fireplace and look over at me.

"You sure you're okay for this?" he asked. I nodded slowly, but the veins in my neck were giving my apprehension away and Harry gave me a small smile.

"I will be right on the other side waiting for you, I promise." He whispered.

"It's not that I'm worried about." I snap at him. He looks at me in surprise and puts the hand not holding the powder on my shoulder.

"I know." He says earnestly. I want to punch him in this moment but I hold my ground and just look at him.

"Just go." I say quickly, hoping he stops trying to cater to my desires so we can get on with this. My heart feels like it's going to break free of my ribcage and my foot starts to tap impatiently. "Really, Harry. I'm fine. I just want to go see everybody. So go. Please." I try not to sound bitter or pushy but I know it comes out that way anyway. I see Harry give me a small look of concern that makes my blood start to boil in frustration but he turns away from me and steps into the fireplace.

"Diagon Alley!" he says clearly. I watch the magical flames eat him up then and there and take him far away from me, and I stare at the metal bowl on the shelf.

It's just dust. That's all it is. Dust that contains traces of magic. Other than that, though, it's no different from the bunnies that are probably underneath Harry's couch next to me. I bite my lip and take a deep breath trying to steady myself. I had to apparate two weeks ago, this should be nothing. Apparation is more complex magic than floo powder, it's more personal. Yet, I had made that decision when I was high on emotions, and thinking always leaves when feelings are involved. Now, I'm thinking clearly and know better than to indulge in magic. I push all my thoughts aside and feel the ability to breathe start to get significantly more difficult as I reach a shaky hand into the bowl and grip some of the powder.

"Oh, shit." I say and I let the breath that wants so badly to escape do so. I feel light-headed, almost like I'm in a dream and my limbs are moving by their own accord into the fireplace.

"Diagon Alley." A voice that sounds like mine but was not controlled by me says loud and clear. I don't feel a thing as the magical flames surround me, and all I see is a blue and green swirl of light as I am transported somewhere far away. I wonder if I'll even recognize it.

The light disappears and I collapse into Harry's arms. He is looking at me carefully as I stand up, his hands still gripping my arms.

"Hey." He says. I smile lightly.

"H-hi." I say. "I forgot what that felt like." I whisper. My throat feels tight, and I don't know if it's because I'm happy or sad. Harry nods and gives my arm a squeeze.

"You wanna go or do you want to rest for a sec?" he asks. I take a deep breath.

"Yeah. Let's go." I say.

* * *

Diagon Alley is just as bustling as ever before. A trolley waits at the end of the street by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, now called "Fred's." I feel my heart cringe a little in sadness and regret when I look at it, and I resist the slight temptation I have to go look inside. It's not open anyway, since George is going to the wedding. Harry offers to help me up into the trolley but I roll my eyes at him and do it myself. This is NOT a date. Chivalry is not required. We bump along as a unicorn pulls us down the street and I choose not to look outside the window. I want to take this a little bit at a time.

We end up leaving Diagon Alley and ride through the London countryside. The day is positively gorgeous, the clouds have a champagne tint to them that blends with the sunlight, creating a sheet of pink and gold above us. The air is crisp but soothing, and the aroma of pine carries into the trolley car and leaves my nose tingling. For a moment I forget that I'm going to a wedding with magic, I forget about the floo powder and the way Harry is being overly cautious and breathe in the freedom I'm feeling looking at the rolling hills. I look over at Harry and I see him staring at me, and the blissful sensation caused by the landscape causes me to smile at him.

"Breathtaking, isn't it?" I ask him. He nods.

"Yeah, it is." My smile falters. He didn't even look at the outside world. His eyes stayed focused on me, and he had _the look_ again. The warm feeling comes back and I turn my head out to watch the cattle and the green glass as it dances in the breeze.

"Thanks for coming with me." He says carefully. I look over at him and I see he is clenching his jaw as if afraid of something. I smile and place my hand on his.

"Thank you for inviting me." I say. I know I need to be more careful, that I can't lead Harry on because I know loving him will only hurt him, but his eyes are so enticing and his voice so afraid that it makes my heart leap to my throat and all rational thought leaves me as my feelings take over. Because I do love him with every ounce of my body, every portion of my spirit, and every beat of my heart. For a moment I almost give in and start to lean towards him, but I pull away quickly and clear my throat. This day is about Neville and Luna.

The trolley pulls up to a church sitting at the top of one of the grass-covered hills. It's small, white, and somehow more elegant than the sky. A small stone pathway invites us to come up and walk through the ancient wooden doors, and with a thank you to the driver and a smile to the unicorn I latch onto Harry's hand. We walk silently up the path, and my heartbeat sounds in my ears.

"HERMIONE!" A voice says.

"What?" Another shrieks. Soon all I can hear is "Oh my goodness gracious!" and "It's Hermione!" and "How have you been?" and "Merlin, you look great!" and "Blimey!" and "HOLY FUCK!" and all sorts of other exclamations as the faces from my childhood come flooding in front of me. Dean and Seamus are there glowing in their suits that match Harry's, and I realize they must be part of the wedding party. I shoot Harry a dirty look trying to tell him we should've been here sooner, but he ignores it and just beams as Padma and Pavarti squeal and giggle and hug me tightly. I see Cho and Ron come running out from the church to greet me, and even Draco Malfoy is there with a smile on his face. He looks brighter somehow, as if the darkness had been sucked from him. That's when she appeared, and placed a gentle hand on her boyfriend's arm.

"Hello, Hermione." Ginny says to me. Her icy stare burns into me, and the tension level hits an all-time high as I try to reply but can't.

"Ginny, why don't we go inside." Draco says to her. She gives me one last death stare before she turns back around and sits with Draco in a pew. Everyone else is staring at me, too, and I feel like I'm about to pass out or throw up again. I want to turn around and leave, but Harry places a hand on my hip and pushes me toward the door. That sends my head spinning. He couldn't push my shoulder, or give me a tap? No, he has to put his ridiculously attractive hands on my HIP. I feel the tears about to fall and breathing is almost impossible, but somehow I find my seat and don't say anything as everyone tries to talk to me. Harry looks at me carefully and gives my hand a squeeze.

"I should've told you I was in the wedding. I'm sorry." He says. That is the last thing on my mind anymore so I just nod my head telling him it's alright. He looks over at Ron who is standing my Pavarti. "Want to go stand by Ron? I have to go behind the doors now." He says. I walk away without saying a word and I know Harry watches me go but I come to Ron who is chattering away like a madman, completely oblivious to my discomfort, and it strangely gives me some peace. At least it's not so bad Ron notices how out of place I am.

The music begins and I watch the procession of people as if I was at a muggle wedding. Neville looks positively divine as he shakes hands with his friends and waits patiently for Luna to appear. I watch his expression change into admiration and I turn around to see her. She is perfection. Her long blonde hair is twisted into a very Luna-esque bun with beautiful feathers and shells, and her dress flows off of her like a waterfall. She glides down the aisle with the most adorable smile I have ever seen appear on someone's face, and when she reaches Neville they take hands immediately. I want to reach for Harry, and that makes my stomach drop. I am in way too deep.

"We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman together in matrimony." A voice I know from my past says. A smile comes to my face as I watch Minerva McGonagall recite the necessary lines required of a wedding, and my heart flutters as I listen to Neville and Luna's vows. Suddenly all the awkwardness from before melts away and I feel so lucky to be here. I force my eyes to stay on Luna and Neville and not glance at Harry, and for a moment I get the distinct feeling someone is watching me and I wonder if it is him. I watch the crystal blue jet of magic escape from McGonagall's wand and wrap itself protectively around Neville and Luna, sealing them together in every way a person can be. They share a kiss that could have won awards, and walk down the aisle hand in hand, beaming uncontrollably. My hands are clapping together ferociously, joy for both of them filling my soul. I still can't speak yet, but when I feel my tears of happiness land on my hand I know this was a good decision. I want to run to Harry and thank him for inviting me, thank him for allowing me to witness the wedding of two of my oldest friends, thank him for everything he has done for me the last two weeks. I want to hug him, kiss him, wrap my arms around his neck and sway to the jazz music that will play soon enough. My eye catches Luna's as she passes me and she lets out a cry and almost trips, but Neville is holding her tightly and she pulls on his sleeve so he can see too. Both of their eyes are shining as they wave to me, and I smile and choke back happy sobs as I wave too. Harry isn't too far behind them, and as he passes me he gives me a wink and I flash him a smile. For the first time in five years, I feel at home.

* * *

The reception is just what you would expect from Neville and Luna. There are green plants on every table, magical creatures of Luna's choice flying above us, almost like fairies. They create a trail of sparkling light behind them as they circle the room, and they sing songs of merriment and love the whole night.

"Hermione!" Luna exclaims when she sees me. She had just shared her dance with Xenophilius and Neville, and now the whole dance floor was filled with couples. I smile at her as she wraps her arms around me and squeaks.

"Hi, Luna!" I say. She looks at me with a giddy smile and calls Neville over. He is grinning from ear to ear.

"Blimey, it's good to see you." He tells me and catches me in a hug. I laugh and look between them, joy spilling out of me.

"It's great to see you guys too." I say. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you!" Neville says.

"How did you know about it?" asks Luna. I blush against my will and unwillingly search the room for Harry.

"I'm Harry's plus one." I say. They give me surprised, knowing looks and I shake it off. Did everyone know about that night?

"Oh! That's great!" Neville tells me. We spend a few more minutes catching up before they leave to go entertain their guests, and Harry comes and sits down next to me.

"Well." He says as I give him a smile. "Having fun?"

"Actually, I am." I say. "Thank you for bringing me." He wraps his arm over my shoulder and gives me a squeeze.

"Of course." He says softly. I notice Ginny watching us from the corner of my eye but she doesn't say anything. I breathe a sigh of relief when she crosses to the punch bowl with Draco. " 'Mione?" Harry asks. "Would you like to dance?"

He holds out his hand and I take it timidly. I feel my heart beating in my chest and as Harry wraps his arms around me I feel my knees turn to liquid. I would fall if he wasn't gripping me so tightly, but that thought makes my cheeks crimson and the warm feeling starts to settle in once more. I notice the jazz music more vividly than before, and as Harry's eyes lock with mine my mind drifts back to that night. His does too, I think, because suddenly there is a heat between us that wasn't there before, and we're drifting on eggshells as the other waits for the kiss. I'm not leaning in. This is up to him.

"Want to go back to my flat?" he asks. I look at him. This is a bad decision. This is going to be a stupid, idiotic, irreparable, completely unjustified and horrible decision. My heart is beating so fast, and his eyes are so green and bright that my ability to say no seems to be gone. I nod my head, and my hand grabs his. He walks me over to Luna and Neville and we say our goodbyes.

"Will we see you soon, Hermione?" Luna asks me.

"Absolutely. Soon as you're back from the honeymoon." I say. They smile at me and watch Harry and I leave together. He had told them I was feeling tired after my long trip and he was going to take me back to my hotel. I notice Ron staring at us as we exit the room, and I can't even imagine what he must be thinking. The trolley is waiting for us but Harry grabs my arm as I'm about to walk toward it.

"Do you mind?" he asks. His eyes are dark, hungry, and I can't help but stand there in shock as he takes my hand and we apparate away.

His flat is dark since all the lights are off, and his hand pulls me along to the nearest light-switch. He turns and looks at me, and I feel my head throb as he places his fingertips on my jawbone and traces little circles.

I'm waiting anxiously, I know at any moment I'm going to feel Harry's lips on mine. I take a breath to steady myself when he wraps his arms around me and holds me.

"Harry?" I ask. "Are you alright?"

"I'm just sorry." He whispers. "For that night. For what happened between us and your parents... Oh, God, Hermione…Your parents didn't deserve what happened, and when you left I felt…I was so…I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that magic feels foreign to you, but I'm so glad you came back." My senses heighten when he says this. Danger, that's all this is going to lead to. His eyes are so focused and he is giving me such compassionate looks that it's making me want to shrivel into a ball and not appear again for another five years. I put the happiness from the wedding aside and I can hear my heart in my ears and my throat feels like I got something stuck in it. I don't know what to say. It was one thing to go and see Neville and Luna, to immerse myself into my old life slowly, but to bring up the past is just too much for me at once. Hot tears begin to swell in my eyes and they threaten to fall as my breathing gets faster from the sudden adrenaline pumping through me. How dare he. Fuck him. He knows why I can't use magic anymore; he was standing right next to me when…

No. I can't look at him anymore and I walk away. He watches me, and suddenly it seems he realizes he probably shouldn't have said a word.

"'Mione…" he whispers. I'm not thinking straight. I can't comprehend what possibly possessed him to say anything about it, and I feel my blood boil. We were fine, we were perfect. I can't cut him the same excuse I gave Ron because I know for a fact that Harry understands perfectly well what happened that night. Suddenly I pull away from him as logical thought begins to come back to me and I realize the gravity of the situation I was about to put myself in. I can't kiss him again, and I am so furious that he made me think I wanted to that I throw a pillow at him from the couch and he catches it. I throw two more, screaming as I do and eventually I slam the door to the bathroom shut so I no longer have to look at him.

The tears cascade down my face and I let the sobs cry out. I don't even care about Harry at this point because all I can think about it the night my parents died. The night everything in my life changed.

_I was walking hand in hand with Harry two weeks after the final battle. It wasn't a romantic gesture, but something the two of us had become accustomed to after so many months fighting for our lives. My dad and mum wanted to meet the man who saved my life, and had asked me to invite him out to dinner. _

_Harry was shy about the whole thing. He dressed to the nines, put in contacts so his emerald eyes were even more brilliant than normal, much like tonight, and did nothing but smile the entire dinner. My parents were obviously taken to him. They had met him once before but it was so long ago they could barely remember what color hair he had. He rattled on about how intelligent he thought I was, praised my skill in combat despite my constant protests, and thanked my parents for his best friend, which of course drove them wild with approval and sent me in a whirlwind of emotions._

_To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was touched, honored, amazed, and above all so completely and eternally in love with him that it took every fiber of my being not to push him against the wall and make him see what he was missing. We left the restaurant that night all smiles and laughs, and Harry was walking with me to my car ahead of my parents, holding my hand. That's when I say him. _

_I still don't know which Death Eater it was, but I saw the cloak sneak behind a wall across the street from the parking lot. I got Harry's attention immediately and he noticed too, but both of us knew that attacking then and there would draw attention to us by the Muggles and the ramifications would be catastrophic. _

"_Mum, dad," I said. "Why don't you get in the car? I think Harry and I are going to walk home." _

"_It's ten miles, Hermione." My mother protested. I smiled and hugged her. _

"_I'll be fine. It's a nice night. Go on, I'll see you at home." I told her. She smiled at me and kissed my cheek. _

"_Alright, sweetheart. See you soon." She said. I waited with Harry as my dad started the car and began to drive off. He had just turned on the street when a green flash shot toward Harry and I pushed him out of the way. It hit one of the cars that was parked and set the alarm sounding. The Death Eater panicked, I assume, because suddenly there were two more curses being shot at us. I retaliated back with a fire hex, intending to hit the bottom of his long robes so Harry and I could use a sticking charm to hold his arms together. I had intended to cast a sleeping charm on him once he was unable to move his limbs and apparate with Harry to the Ministry so we could properly dispose of him, but it all went wrong. _

_The fire hex was blocked by him and it ricocheted down the street toward a park. It hit a tree and snapped it clean in half just as my parents were turning the corner to drive home. Before I had a chance to slow the fall or cast a shielding charm around my parent's car the tree landed with a vengeance on the hood, crushing everything inside. The fire was spreading from the curse and was eating the bark of the tree, and I remember my head spinning so fast I couldn't move. _

_Harry took care of the Death Eater and called someone to take him away. I remember the rest of that night as a blur of emotions. I remember the tears and the screaming. I remember running to the car and collapsing to the asphalt, scraping my knees since I was wearing a dress. I remember the sound of an ambulance, the push of water from the firefighter's hose. I remember a wool blanket around my shoulders as I cried and Harry held me. As far as what I was feeling, I remember pain. _

_I didn't want to go home. I wanted to stay in the hospital all night but the doctor told me my parents were gone before they got into the ambulance. He told me I had to leave and get rest. A freak accident the police had called it, but I knew it was no such thing. It was my fault, and I remember breaking down on the steps just outside the hospital with Harry's firm grip trying to comfort me. _

_He took me back to his place. He had rented a small apartment in the muggle world about a week after the final battle. He wanted to be away from all the press and the hype of the war and decided he would sleep among those who had no idea it even occurred. I was numb by the time he opened the door and I walked inside without a word. He made me tea, and sat with me as I didn't drink it. _

I kick the side of the toilet and register the pain in my toe. I don't want to think about what happened next, but I can't help myself. Especially when I hear a knock on the door.

" 'Mione, I'm sorry." It says. I groan.

_I didn't want to sleep. The pain was so raw that I felt empty. I didn't feel anything at all, and that scared me because I knew that I should be feeling something. Harry had carried me to the bed and told me I could rest there and he would take the couch, but I had asked him to stay. So, we lied next to each other on the downy mattress, arms so far apart a truck could fit through them, when I started to cry again. Harry got up and walked to his radio and put on soft jazz music to help calm me down, then came back to the bed and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed the top of my head, leaving his lips there for a moment. That's when I felt the warm feeling I've been getting recently for the first time. It was a shock for me because I hadn't been feeling anything since the hospital, and I took advantage of it immediately. I felt such a strong desire to be close to someone, to distract myself from the night. My love for Harry was flooding me as he continued to kiss my hair, and I almost forgot about my parents when I felt his hand on my back. _

_I sat up slowly and looked him in the eye. There was unspoken communication, a longing from both of us that had been suppressed for so long. Harry clenched his jaw, afraid of taking advantage of me, and I crashed my lips onto his so he would know I wanted this. He didn't kiss me back at first, but pulled away and looked me in the eye. _

"_Hermione we can't –" he said but I ignored him and kissed him again. Harder, this time, and he seemed to forget why he was protesting. His mouth danced with mine there on his bed, my hands found their way to his hair as he cupped my cheek and his tongue played war with mine. He let out a growl of approval as I shifted my leg against his growing erection and he pulled my dress over my head. I panted, ran my fingers down his chest and he kissed my neck and gave it tender little bites. _

"_Harry…" I moaned, and he let out a noise in response. He was almost whimpering as I undid his tie and threw it on the ground. He nibbled my ear as I tried to undo the buttons on his shirt, but his actions made me tremble and he had to take over. I ran my hands along his bare chest and he flipped us over so he was on top, his hands squeezing my hips as his lips found mine. His breath was hot, his mouth tasted of peppermint and honey, and as he moved back down to my neck I let out my first scream of the night. He smiled against my skin and his hands snaked up to my breasts, where his fingers rolled over my already hard nipples. I let out a sigh in pleasure and he did it again, his lips still on my neck. I was throbbing in need, and his lips moved down my body, inch by inch. His hot tongue found my nipple and his teeth bit down lightly. _

"_Harry..Please…" I moaned as he did so, and he let out another growl. I could feel the head of his penis in between my legs, and with a gentle thrust I felt him enter me. He stayed there for a moment as I cried in pain, but the more he moved the better it felt and the easier it became. We came together, collapsed on top of each other, and fell asleep. _

"Hermione." Harry's voice says, snapping me back to reality. I felt so far away from myself, so distant, and guilt was gripping me tighter than I thought it possibly could. "Can we talk?" he asks. I sit on the bathroom floor and don't move. My forehead has sweat on it, and I feel tears on my cheeks. It was so real. The memory of us together, the feelings from that night. I haven't let myself think about them in five years, and now I feel as if I had just lived through it.

"Go away, Harry." I say, and my head falls back against the wall.

* * *

A/N: Here is chapter 4! I hope you all enjoyed. Hermione is a little immature bitch right now, but she gets better. I promise. Next chapter will be up soon.


	5. Five

The Lost Years

Summary: After the war, Harry and Hermione's friendship was greatly altered. Now, five years later, they meet again for the first time and the flame begins to rekindle. H/Hr

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated characters. That all belongs to JK Rowling.

Author's Note: Thank you all for reading. I hope you are enjoying! I've received a few messages asking me why I chose first person, and honestly it was just because it seemed like an interesting way to go about it. I hope it doesn't seem weird!

* * *

Five

There is a note on the counter when I finally walk out of the bathroom.

_Hermione,_

_Brought your car over for you. Sorry about everything._

_-Harry_

I stare it for a moment and flutter my lips. I don't know what time it is, but it's light outside so I know I've been here for a while. I take the note with me and walk out the door, my mind numb. I feel this emptiness inside of me when I see my car parked neatly by the curb, and where I would've been angry with Harry for touching it without my permission an hour ago, his courtesy now leaves me feeling broken. I know I overreacted. I know he was just trying to be there for me and that he really didn't mean to upset me. The subject of my parent's deaths is sensitive enough to me, but to have _him _– the one person who was there through it all – be the one to bring it up... It was like getting kicked in the gut. I open my car door and sit down with a sigh. My head is throbbing from all the tears, and the drive back to the hotel is lonely. The music stays off, the engine hums quietly, and the silence seems to act as the oppressor of my feelings. It's like the never ending void that is holding all my guilt, and it's deadly. I'm losing myself in the lack of noise that the hotel practically jumps out in front of me. I almost swerve into oncoming traffic I'm so spooked by it, but with a deep breath I steady myself and park the car.

I don't take the elevator because I am afraid of the jazz music. Each step up the stairs reminds me I have to leave, that I've opened too many old wounds and the sooner I distance myself the safer everyone will be. I reach my floor and walk down the endless hallway to my room, unlock the door, and step inside.

It's surreal knowing the last time I was in here none of it had happened. I see the paper plates in the trash that the spaghetti was on, I look at the unwashed mug of tea from the morning of the wedding, and I walk into the bedroom and see my clothes everywhere, a pang of sadness stabs me. I collapse on the bed and close my eyes. I still feel empty, but regret starts to find its way through. I have to leave. I can't stay here anymore, especially after last night. My suitcase is by my feet and I grab it, throwing in a few articles of clothing I was lying on.

There is a knock on my door that makes me jump. I want it to be Harry, I want to tell him how sorry I am and how I didn't mean to be so rude. This time, I want to tell him goodbye properly and not just disappear. He deserves that much.

It isn't Harry at the door, but Ron. He looks furious and is staring into the room behind me, but his eyes grow dark as if he isn't seeing something he likes. Next, he is looking at me carefully.

"Hey, there." He says knowingly. I bite my lip.

"Hi, Ron." I say calmly. Did Harry put him up to this? Ron waits for me to invite him in and I do, and he looks around the room and sees the mess of clothes through the door to the bedroom. I see him tense and turns back to me. His face is ghostly white.

"Packing up?" he asks. I sigh and nod my head and he frowns.

"Found a flat quick! Damn!" he shouts. I give him a pointed look because we both know that's not the reason I'm leaving.

"Ron—" I start to say. "I'm not-" His eyes grow hazy.

"Yeah, I know." He whispers. "Moving back in your parents?" he asks. I feel my pulse quicken. I can't do that. That would be like walking into crossfire without a bulletproof vest. I sink onto the cushion of the couch and rub my hands together.

"No." I say simply. Ron sits down next to me.

"Where'd you and Harry go last night?" he asks. I glare at him. There is no way he doesn't know what happened and I don't plan on telling him anything so we sit in silence for a moment. "Hermione?" he begs. I sigh.

"You already know." I say. He shakes his head.

"No, I don't. I tried getting in touch with Harry but I couldn't. When I went to his flat and neither of you were there I thought I might try coming here. But it looks like he isn't here either." He tells me. My heart drops. I know the tears are going to fall before they do, and with a swipe of my hand I hide them before Ron can see.

"We had a fight." I whisper. Ron nods.

"Yeah…Thought so when you were here alone." He says. I look over at him. "What happened?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"Just said some stuff." I reply. Ron groans.

"What stuff?" he demands. I slump on the couch and feel regret's harsh sting as I muster up the courage to try and answer. "You can't just leave." He says instead and gets up. He crosses to the kitchen and bangs his fist on the counter, causing me to jump again. "Goddamn it Hermione!" he cries and turns back around. "What happened to you?" he snaps. My mouth falls open and I stare at him, unsure of how to respond.

"Wha—What?" I stutter out. He looks at me furiously.

"You. Can 't. Leave." He repeats, saying each word slowly as if I can't understand him. "You aren't supposed to be the one who leaves. Harry said so. Five years ago he told me so. I memorized the words he said because they stung and reminded me when I left. You wanna know what he said?" he hissed. I didn't say anything and he continued. "He said 'Ron, she's the one who always stayed and now she's gone. She stayed when you left, she stayed during the Triwizard Tournament, she stayed when everyone thought I lied about Voldemort returning and she wanted to stay when I went to die. She's always stayed, and I fucked it up.' " Hearing Ron tell me this only makes my regret grow stronger and the feeling of nausea comes and slaps me in the face. I try to control my breathing so the vomit won't come out. "What happened? Tell me, because I can't find him and now you're running away and I have this sinking feeling in my gut." His eyes are wild, and I can't suppress the sobs anymore and let them break free. I nod, knowing that telling Ron is the only way any of this will stop.

"He…" I whimper and he waits. "He told me…He said that he was…Was sorry…" I choke out through the sobs. Ron watches me intently.

"Sorry for what?" he asks.

"My parents…" I tell him and he groans.

"You gotta let it go, Hermione." He says and my eyes snap to him. I realize Harry must've told Ron everything after I left, and I shake my head violently. He sighs. "I'm not saying move on because that'll never happen, but you have to stop blaming yourself."

"I can't Ron. I can't. It was MY curse. I made it happen –" I scream and he shakes his head in disbelief.

"NO YOU DIDN'T. Hermione, the Death Eater is the one who threw it aside. You did not make anything happen." He says angrily. I stand up and start to pace in frustration.

"Ron, you don't understand –" I say. He scoffs at me.

"I don't understand? Hermione, you are not the only one who lost someone in the war. Not a day goes by that I don't wonder 'what if' about Fred. I wonder** if I** had been there, **if I** had protected him….Why do you think I do the job I do? Because I can't live with the pain and guilt of knowing that he died and I wasn't around to do anything about it." He says. He comes up to me and puts his hands on my shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Ron." I whisper. He clenches his jaw and looks me right in the eye.

"Me too." He says. We look at each other for a moment and he closes his eyes. "Look. I had a feeling you were leaving. I don't know why but…Please don't go. He needs you, Hermione. Probably more than anybody."

"Why?" I ask and Ron looks at me as if I'm an idiot.

"Because he loves you. He always has." Ron says to me. I feel my heart shatter. This is dangerous. If Harry loves me, it's a recipe for disaster. Especially based on our history, and especially based on the fact that I am an emotional roller coaster who is head over heels in love with him too.

"No." I protest, choosing not to believe that it is possible. Ron sighs.

"My god, Hermione, you used to be so smart." He says amazed. I open my mouth in response but he shuts me up by continuing. "He idolized you. He hung on to every word you said as if you were the smartest person on the planet. Which you were, most of the time." He says. "He dated Ginny because he thought you would never think of him in that way."

"Ron, stop." I beg. "Please." Ron shakes his head.

"No. I know you feel the same way about him, Hermione. I've seen it. If you leave now, you will destroy the little bit of him he was able to hold onto when you left before. " He says. I am crying so hard and I shake my head.

"Ron, it's dangerous. Me and him. It just hurts people." I say. He groans and shakes me as if I was a magic 8 ball.

"Hermione!" he says. "It doesn't have to. You make it hurt because you leave every fucking time a spark is there. What happened to the girl who helped Harry form the DA? What happened to the girl who rode on the back of a fucking hippogriff and saved Sirius Black? What happened to—" He questions harshly. I bite my lip and cut him off.

"She's gone, Ronald!" I shriek and push him off of me. He grabs my forearm and spins me around. He is worried and his eyes are searching me intensely.

"Fucking bring her back, then! I like her better!" he shouts and lets go of me. I stare at him with my mouth agape.

"Ron –" I start to whimper, but he shakes his head.

"Harry is my best friend, Hermione." He says slowly. His voice is shattered, lined with worry and caked in despair. "He is my brother. There was a time when I gladly called you my sister." I look down as he says this, the words stinging more than I thought they would. He places a finger beneath my chin and lifts my face up to him. "The girl I called family is still in you. I see her. Harry sure as hell sees her. I get being lost after you lose people close to you, I do. And you damn well know Harry does. We can help. Please, Hermione. Please, don't go… I can't lose both of you. More than that, _he_ can't lose you. Not twice." He says. I swallow and nod my head. My jaw is trembling beneath Ron's finger and he drops it. "Here." He says and hands me a wad of cash.

"Ron I—" I protest, but he shoves it in my hands.

"Take it. Use it for the room." He says. My hand wraps around the money timidly and I look Ron in the eye.

"Thank you." I say. "When did Harry tell you about my parents?" I ask quietly. Ron sighs.

"Five years ago. About two hours after he found out you left. He came over, broken beyond all help. Told me everything. Told me he loved you." He replies. My eyes shut tightly and I try to take a deep breath.

"I have to talk to him." I mutter and collapse into the cushion again. Ron nods and lets out a long sigh.

"Yeah. Why don't you get ready and I'll find you some breakfast? We can go to his flat again and you two can talk or whatever you need, okay?" he suggests. I nod and stand up, but before I walk into the bathroom to take a shower I turn around.

"Ron?" I begin. He looks over at me. "Thank you. For, um… for stopping me." I say weakly. He smirks.

"Never thought I'd see the day." He teases. I smile at him and close the door. I unzip my green dress and let it fall to the ground, and use a baby wipe to remove the make-up stained tear lines that are on my face. I twist the knobs on the shower until the water is soothing and warm, step inside, and try desperately hard not to think about Harry. It's impossible.

I don't know what I'm going to say when I see him. I don't know if I'm ready to see him. I also don't know how accurate Ron's description of Harry's feelings for me are, but as the shampoo sinks into my hair and it's like its washing away all the pain from the previous night. I feel a thousand times less angry than I was before, now I only feel guilt and paranoia and I can't wrap my head around the fact that Harry 'loves' me. The logical part of me is saying that I don't want him to. It would be so much easier to ignore my feelings for him if he doesn't have any for me, but the rest of me is screaming for him to admit so himself. To think less than an hour ago I was going to pack up and leave without a second thought, and now I'm standing here trying to imagine possible confessions of love from Harry freaking Potter. I shake my head and rinse out my hair, trying to forget about Harry for at least a few minutes, but the second I close my eyes I see his face.

Ron is right. I know he is. I have been holding on to my parent's deaths for too long, and eventually I'm going to have to say goodbye. But I feel responsible for it, and that's why the nightmares happen and the walls get put up whenever someone comes even remotely close to the subject. That's why I lashed out last night, it's why I was ready to leave today. I became a dentist so that I could feel like they were still part of me, and for five years I walked away from the life that made me feel safe. To me, I don't deserve friendship or magic. I'm responsible for something more horrible than I could have ever imagined. I take a deep breath and let the water run down my back to stop myself from shaking as these thoughts bombard my head.

"_NO YOU DIDN'T. Hermione, the Death Eater is the one who threw it aside. You did not make anything happen." _Ron had said. What the fuck did he know? He wasn't there. The only other person who could possibly understand how it IS, in fact, completely and utterly my fault is Harry.

Harry. He is perfection wrapped in flesh. He is the glimmer of hope in a sea of despair, the light in the darkness and the promise always kept. He is the constant that never fades, the armor that always stands ready to fight. He is more than a man and he is more than a friend. He is the truth in every lie, the only person I know who cares so much it's almost to a fault. He is the single most wonderful person I have ever met, and he deserves so much more than me.

I am a train-wreck. I am fire and I devour everything I touch. I am the ingredient that shouldn't mix. I have so much baggage weighing me down and, unlike Harry, I get trampled by it. I am the detonator on a bomb, and my feelings are poison. If I let them known, Harry will be sentenced to death because I don't know how to love without hurting people. Not anymore. I turn off the water and step out of the shower, and quickly I dry off and zip my dress back up so I can run and get changed without Ron seeing anything. I try to pretend like everything is okay, but it's a lost cause. I have to talk to Harry.

* * *

Ron sits next to me in silence as we drive to Harry's flat. The bagel he brought me is on a paper plate in his lap, and he is staring out of the window as if he is going to see something incredible. I'm sure he's trying to distract from it all, and as the lamp post from the first night I was ever here comes up on my left I slow my car down and park by the curb. It feels like I was just here and I unclick the seatbelt, open the door, and walk up the stairs to his flat.

I knock three times but there is no answer. I start to feel the panic rise and I look over at Ron. He may not be here. And if that was the case, where is he? I knock again, and this time I can hear shuffling inside. I let out a sigh of relief I didn't even know I was keeping locked up. He's in there, and suddenly there is this fear gripping at me. I have to figure out what I'm going to say. The intensity level in my stomach starts to rise, and the turn of the doorknob makes my knees shake. Ron puts a hand on my shoulder and the door opens, where Harry is staring at me with puffy eyes.

" 'Mione." He says, a little surprised. I stand there blank-faced, and I know that I have to say something or he'll just close the door again. Ron clears his throat.

"Hey, mate," he says. Harry looks over at him and nods.

"Hey." He replies before setting his sights back on me. "What, er, what're you doing here?" he asks. I brush my tongue over my lips and take a deep breath.

"We need to talk." I say. His expression falls and he nods grimly. With a small, sad smile to Ron he steps aside to let me in. I watch Ron lean into Harry and whisper something before turning around and walking down the stairs. Great, I'm on my own. Which I suppose is better, but as the door shuts I feel like I'm being put inside a prison war camp. Especially when Harry meets his eyes to mine, and all I see is hurt and anger.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asks. Where do I begin? Do I start with an apology or do I immediately tell him that I've chosen to stay? Do I mention to him what Ron said or do I pretend like there is nothing between us and I'm staying because I know I overreacted and there is no reason to leave? I sigh.

"I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have thrown pillows at you." I say. He stares at me as if waiting for me to continue. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm sorry I got so upset. I overreacted. I just…um… I'm not ready to talk about anything that happened." My eyes are avoiding his as I speak, but when I finish I give him a quick glance. He looks like he was hit with a truck.

"Mione…" he whispers. "It's okay. I shouldn't have said anything. I just…the past…it's…it's so broken and I just want to fix it." He says. I give him a small smile.

"You can't." I reply. "Thanks for trying though." I add. The tension has lessened and Harry begins to walk toward the couch. I follow him with cautious steps until he pats the cushion, inviting me to join him. I do.

"I want you to know that if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. Always." He tells me. I smile gratefully.

"I know you are. It's just this…" I begin, but I trail off when I try to decide how to form the words. Harry waits patiently and squeezes my hand. "It's this part me, Harry, that has completely changed the way I look at everything. I loved going to Neville and Luna's wedding, but I don't think I'm ready to go back." I reveal. He nods.

"I didn't think you were. That's not what I was trying to imply last night. I just… Hermione, you are the most amazing person I have ever met. And lately, since you came back… I dunno. I've been feeling –" He says. Suddenly I am involuntarily coughing. I do not want to hear Harry say what I think he is going to say. That makes it real and impossible to forget. Denial is better than rejection. My heart sinks and I feel nausea come on when I note I have to reject him if he says it. I'll just hurt him otherwise. He grows concerned as I continue to cough and runs to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He hands it to me and watches me drink it down.

"Thanks," I choke out. He nods.

"You feel better?" he asks. I smile at him and place the cup on the coffee table in front of me. I am waiting for him to continue with what he was going to say, trying to figure out a way to weasel around it. However he doesn't say anything and actually walks over to his collection of movies. He seems to peruse the shelves for a while, but he turns around with almost comedic speed. "Are you going to leave?" he asks. He tries to hide it, but I see the desperation for me to stay sound in his voice, and it reads on his face like freckles. I shake my head.

"Course not." I reply. The relief that washes over him is immediate, and with a gigantic grin he turns back around and grabs the first movie he finds.

"Ever seen this?" he asks and tosses the case to me.

"The Notebook?" I ask. Looking at the cover, my stomach falls. "No…" I say carefully. Where was he going with this?

"It's great." He says. "I'll go pop some popcorn." He says enthusiastically and bounces off to the kitchen. I lean against the couch and my head falls back on the pillow. Talking went much better than I thought, but there is a lot left unsaid. I think Harry senses the dangerous water we're treading, and he's trying to ease his way into more serious topics. I'm okay with that. I'd honestly rather never discuss how much I love him…

That's not true. Maybe it is. I don't know, the whole thing sends my head spinning. I want to tell him, I want him to tell me. I know I can't tell him. I know we can't be together because SO much will go wrong. But Ron's words are eating at me.

"_You make it hurt because you leave every fucking time a spark is there."_

Maybe I am just cutting myself short. Maybe if I gave me and Harry a chance…

My stomach turns over. This is the most frustrating thing ever. I am too much of a coward to just go for it, and I worry too much. But I also love him way too much, and that's where it gets complicated. I love him so much that I want to be with him, but we are dangerous, and a life with him would cause destruction.

Right?

Harry comes back in after a few minutes with the popcorn. His presence snaps me out of my thoughts and I watch him put the movie in the DVD player and sit down next to me.

"No commenting on how unrealistic you think it is." He tells me and throws a piece of popcorn in his mouth. "And no making fun of me for liking it." He adds. I smirk.

"Harry, I'm watching birds fly over a lake…" I say, my eyes glued to the screen. He shakes his head.

"I'm not usually for movies like this, 'Mione. But this one… I don't know. Just good." He says and grabs a handful of popcorn. I watch carefully, so very aware of my surroundings.

I watch Noah dangle from the ferris wheel. I watch Allie push him against the wall and kiss the ice cream off of his face. I watch her kick the car and scream that they are over. The entire time I can't focus on it, though, because all I can think about is how Harry picked this movie after we had a fight. He picked this movie when I stopped him from saying any feelings he may or may not have for me. He picked this movie and was enjoying it immensely, and I can't help but feel a subliminal message being sent in my direction.

"I waited for you for seven years. And now it's too late." Allie says.

My heart stops. No. No, no, no, no, no. I feel my muscles tense up when I put the pieces together.

Girl and boy are in love. Girl leaves boy. Boy can't move on. Girl comes back after years apart. It's me and Harry with a few facts embellished. Fuck my life.

Now, their kissing. Great. He has her dripping wet and pushed up against the wall and he is ripping every article of clothing she has on off of her. I feel my cheeks grow bright red. I want to run away, I want to stop the movie and leave and never return. This was NOT an accident. There is no way Harry possibly didn't think about it, and as Allie orgasms there on the screen I feel Harry stiffen beside me.

I hate him. I hate him so much I just want to…. I want to….

I want to kiss him. I want to wrap my legs around his hips and grind against him. I want to lose my hands in his heap of hair and feel his tongue on my neck. I want to take him into his bedroom and do exactly what Noah and Allie just did.

It takes all my willpower not to look at him. I am so furious and so turned on at the same time that all the confusion about how to handle my feelings for Harry is raised by a thousand percent.

The confusion is forgotten however, as the ending of the movie unfolds before me and I watch the sweet nurse place her hands on Allie and Noah's lifeless bodies. My mind flashes the image of Harry in Hagrid's arms before me, and suddenly I feel my eyes fill with tears. I don't try to stop them because suddenly I can relate even more to the unfortunate lovers in this film. I remember hugging Harry before he left.

"_I'll go with you." _I had said through my tears.

I still would.

Emotions start to overtake my logic again and the part of my brain that tells me I will only cause pain and suffering if I do anything with Harry seems to be silent. As the credits roll I look at him and I see he is staring at me too. My breath hitches in my throat and I feel dizzy.

"Hermione…" he whispers low and husky. I gulp and close my eyes.

"_You make it hurt because you leave every fucking time a spark is there."_

My lips crash onto his. He lets out a low moan from the suddenness of it, but he kisses me back immediately and wraps his arms around my waist. He lowers my body to the couch and hovers over me, his mouth hungrily exploring mine. I pull away for air and guide his head to my neck, where he plants little butterfly kisses up and down, causing the warm feeling I have felt so often of late burn inside of me. I gasp and find his lips again. My knee starts to separate his legs and he complies, and I can feel his length begin to grow against me. It causes me to moan into him and he lets out a low growl, separating his lips from mine and trailing down my body to my shirt, where he hastily messes with the buttons and tears it off of me. I am panting hard and scoot a little so he can remove it completely, and I push on his shoulders so he is sitting on me. I look him in the eye.

"Bedroom." I command. He doesn't say anything and just leans down to kiss me, getting up as I do and following me to the room. His hands are latched to my hips and are exploring, and he is kissing my shoulder as we walk. I don't bother flipping on the light, and Harry's mouth finds mine again when he feels me turn around to face him. I'm walking backwards in the dark, but I trust Harry not to let me fall and his arm snakes around me as he lowers me down onto his bed. It's a downy mattress, and if I wasn't so completely out of control I probably would've walked away because it reminds me of that night so much. For the moment I can't even think about it and pull his shirt over his head. I flip him over so I am on top of him and lean down to kiss his chest. He mumbles something I can't make out and my hand brushes his erection and his breath flutters. I smile at his reaction and repeat the gesture. It seems to be too much for him because suddenly he is tearing off my jeans and his hand slips under my panties. I squeak at the feeling of his hands _there_, and this elicits a growl from him before he removes the lace. My bra follows and soon I am naked before him, and dying to feel him inside of me.

I'm not thinking. Not a single bit of logic is left in my brain as I pull his pants to the ground and slip his boxers off of him. I seem to have completely forgotten my reservations about Harry, and I place small kisses on his thighs and work my way up. I know I should stop, there is a small, tiny bit of me that tells me I should, but I can't. This is Harry.

Harry unhinges me. He always has. I tell myself over and over that I don't love him and yet I give in eventually. Every single time. He is the only person I would go to the ends of the earth for. He is the only person who can read me by the look on my face, and he is the only person who has the ability to make me stop thinking in a logical way.

I bite down lightly when I reach his length and give the head a slight kiss. He cries out at the sensation, and I flash him a triumphant victory smile even though he can't see it in the dark. I continue to kiss him, but soon he groans.

"Lay down." He tells me. I do as he says and feel my head rest against his soft pillow. His body is warm and protective over me, and his lips gently place themselves on mine. "Hermione…" he moans and I feel his cock against my thigh. I bite my lip. " 'Mione…tell me to stop if…" he starts to say.

"Shh…" I respond. I am wet and I feel the throbbing getting more urgent the longer Harry waits. He lets out a shaky breath and bites down on my nipple. The peaks are hard and he continues to roll them with his tongue. I am panting and letting out small noises. My hand is gripping the blanket for support and Harry inches a little closer to where I want him.

"Harry –" I say, and he wastes no time. I feel him and it feels incredible. When it ends we lay there panting. Harry wraps his arms around me and pulls my head onto his chest. I am too exhausted to care, too happy to feel any sort of panic, and sleep starts to take hold of me.

"Hermione Granger –" Harry begins to say, and I fall asleep before I can hear the end of it.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for reading this chapter! This story has a few more, but it's over half way. Please review! I'd love to know what you all think!


	6. Six

The Lost Years

Summary: After the war, Harry and Hermione's friendship was greatly altered. Now, five years later, they meet again for the first time and the flame begins to rekindle. H/Hr

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated characters. That all belongs to JK Rowling.

Author's Note: So sorry this took so long! I had most of it written for weeks and just couldn't figure out how to end it. I hope it satisfies. The next chapter will be up soon, although I'm back in school so there might be longer waits. Thank you so much for the support!

* * *

Six

I wake up to the smell of bacon and the feeling of sunlight pooling into the room. Harry's cotton sheets feel magnificent against my naked body, and as I shift a little to get my hair out of my face I am immediately welcomed by a sore feeling in my groin. I bite my lip and lean back into the pillow, and my eyes trace the outline of the Gryffindor crest on the molding above me.

I slept with Harry, and I'm _happy._ Honestly, aside from being a little sore I haven't felt this wonderful when I've woken up in forever. I feel like I could climb the Matterhorn, or skydive, or run barefoot through the Sahara. I am smiling despite myself and I pull the blanket up a little so it is drowning me in warmth and comfort, and I take a deep breath. It smells just like him, and my happiness grows.

The door opens and Harry walks in holding a wooden tray. I smell the coffee and bacon and sit up a little. My stomach growls and Harry smirks. I didn't realize how hungry I was. He sets the tray in front of me and I smile widely as I take in the arrangement of strawberry waffles, bacon, coffee, and a small yellow flower in a delicate glass vase. I almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but the look on Harry's face stops me. He seems edgy, as if waiting for my approval. I realize that's probably _exactly _what he's looking for. He wants to know if I regret what happened, if I'm going to run out like before, or if I'm going to sit in bed with him and eat the lovely breakfast he cooked me. Taking a bite of the waffles would be a sign to him, a promise of a chance. I feel apprehension begin to rise because I don't want Harry to think we're going to be a lovey-dovey perfect couple now that we had sex, but I can't deny the fact that I'm not as upset or terrified as I thought I would be. My lip rolls between my teeth and I decide I want to try to put the past behind me, but it doesn't stop my hand from shaking as I cut a piece of waffle and stick it in my mouth. It tastes incredible, almost as good as the scone from the French bakery, and I see Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"Morning," he says. Once I swallow my bite I smile at him.

"Good Morning," I reply. "Thank you so much for this." I add, gesturing to the tray. He nods.

"Figured you might be hungry." He chimes, and I notice a slight purr in his voice which causes me to blush.

"Did you eat anything?" I ask and he smiles.

"Don't need to." He tells me and I roll my eyes.

"Don't be daft. Here." I say, and cut a piece of waffle for him. I hold out the fork, intending for him to take it, but he just stares at it and I feel my heart begin to race. Does he really expect me to feed him? I don't want to. That's a VERY couple-esque thing to do, but I also know if I don't it might seem like rejection to Harry. I'm not ready to be a couple, but I don't want to push him away and ruin any hope I may have of being one eventually. Sighing, I edge the fork into Harry's mouth and he bites down, pulling back lightly and taking the piece of waffle with him. I roll my eyes as he chews, acting like he is severely judging the texture and taste.

"Not bad!" He exclaims when he finished and I just shake my head and sip the coffee. He is sitting at the edge of the bed and it looks like he is about to fall off, so I pat the side next to me and he grins. He doesn't say anything, but he quickly walks around and sits down beside me. I eat for a moment in silence and I hand Harry a strip of bacon which he takes gratefully. I am rather aware of the fact that I am still naked and the sheet is barely covering my breasts, but I suppose it's something he's seen before.

"Have you ever been to the museum here?" he asks me as he chews the bacon. I look over at him.

"Don't think so." I reply, sipping my coffee once more. Harry beams.

"You would love it, 'Mione. We should go sometime today." He tells me. I nod and give him a smile. I set the coffee down.

"I actually was thinking I could try and look at that flat, maybe. I can't stay in the hotel for much longer, and I should probably try to find a job, too…"I say, although the last part is more to me than to Harry. He watches me and reaches over, lacing his fingers in mine.

"Listen, I have a spare room –" he begins and I nearly choke on waffle.

"Oh, no, Harry, I couldn't!" I cut off, and he gives me a knowing look.

"You CAN, actually, and it would save you a lot of headache." He says. I bite my lip, and Harry sighs. I can tell he understands why I'm reserved to the idea and he gives my hand a small squeeze. "We don't have to be a couple, 'Mione. Roommates. Separate rooms. If you don't want to live with me because you aren't ready or something, I understand! We can visit the flat later. But if the reason you're saying no is because you think I am going to act like your boyfriend and treat you like we're a couple living together, I promise you it won't be like that. I just want to help." He says. I swallow hard and look Harry in the eye, where there is nothing compassion. He is always so damn compassionate. My brain is telling me to say no, that all it is going to do is lead him in a direction I'm not ready for, but I can't stop my heart from fluttering at the idea of living with him. This is totally and completely stupid because a week ago I was completely against this whole concept. A lot has changed since then, I suppose, and I muster up my courage and give my head one single nod. Harry smiles in approval and sneaks a bite of my waffle. "Finish up. We got a museum to go to." He says and smiles at me before crossing into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

He is so calm. He's acting like sleeping with me is something we do all the time, and he hasn't kissed me or made any sort of gesture to imply it even happened apart from holding my hand. And offering to let me move in, but even that was more out of friendship than sex. I smile. This is why I love him. He never pushes things, but lets them develop naturally and when they do, he just accepts it. Part of me wishes I could be more like that. I overanalyze everything and look at it all from a logical point of view. Half the time success if found by belief, not proof.

I think about that thought for a moment. I don't need proof to know I love Harry. I believe and know that, but I do need proof that a relationship with him won't hurt people. Especially him. I need to see how things are now that the dynamic has shifted and we've, well….You know.

"_No. I know you feel the same way about him, Hermione. I've seen it. If you leave now, you will destroy the little bit of him he was able to hold onto when you left before. " _

"_Because he loves you. He always has."_

I didn't want to believe what Ron had said. It is scary, unfathomable, and above all, something I completely believe to be dangerous. As I hear Harry turn the water on, I can't deny the fact that it's probably true. The half-eaten waffles in front of me say so. The way he was waiting for me to bring up what happened, probably because he knows my reservations about it, say so. His face definitely says so. His eyes, his voice, his kiss. Oh, God, his kiss. It all says so. He loves me.

I decide that I have to get dressed and I make my way out of his bed to see my clothes lying askew around me. I can't even find my shirt, and after I get my jeans and bra back on I grab one of Harry's t-shirts and throw it over my head. My make-up is smeared and I frown, wetting the pad of my forefinger with my tongue in desperate attempt to clean it off. It sort of works, but I am left with a bag under my eye. Sighing, I resort to ignoring it completely and running my fingers through my hair, hoping to tame the locks some. That too proves useless, and with a groan I collapse onto the bed face-first.

"You look fine, stop fretting." Harry says, and I lift my eyes up a bit so see him smirking at me with a towel wrapped around his waist. I roll my eyes.

"That was quick." I say to him in reference to the shower. He shrugs.

"Was in a hurry." He replies with a slightly sadistic grin. I let out a laugh and sit up, my hair falling about my face and forcing me to blow it out of the way.

This is nice. Simple, flirtatious, friendly bantering. It's how I remember Harry. It's how I remember us, before it all went wrong. I find myself blushing at the recollections, and I see Harry's eyes travel slowly down my body.

"That's mine." He points out, his voice soft and kind.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't where mine is and—" I start to say. Harry's brilliant emeralds shine as if they were diamonds as he listens to me, and with a small shake of his head and the twitching of his mouth, forming a fantastic smile, he silences me.

"Keep it, please. Looks better on you anyway." He says. My blush deepens. I see his Adam's apple bob and our eyes meet, a spark igniting instantly.

Suddenly, I have to suppress the intense desire to run away once more. We are completely tip-toeing around this, and neither of us seems to want to take the first step toward something. I know why I don't. I'm not entirely convinced this is a good idea, and I'm actually feeling a little nausea by the sensation he is giving me. He seems afraid of pushing me away, at least that's the only explanation I can think of. If I know Harry, it's a sound one. His eyes are digging deeper into me, and I feel my heart rattle against my chest.

"Hermione?" he whispers. His voice is like snowfall. It's soft, light, pure, yet it's icy. The coldness that is edged around my name sends a chill down my spine and makes my head begin to spin. I have to take a breath to steady myself because his eyes are cutting into me as well. I feel vulnerable and on display with no hope of turning back. The time for that was last night, before my lips met his.

"Yes?" I manage to say, and Harry's eyes begin to burn they are staring at me so fiercely. He doesn't look angry, just determined, but the ice is still covering his words as he speaks next.

"I know that look."

My jaw feels like its bolted shut as I try to let the saliva pass through me. I want to open up and ask him what he is talking about, I want to get this whole thing settled but I don't know where to start. I just stare at him, taking in all the power he is managing to have, feeling as small as I did the first night we reconnected.

"You want me to step aside so you can shower." He says. My eyes widen.

"Wha—" I start to say, and Harry breaks out into a smile.

"Haha! You just have to ask, you don't have to sit there in silence! Go on, it's all yours." He says and moves away from the door frame. I'm gawking at him, trying to understand why he would stare at me with such intensity over such a silly notion. I wonder if he was trying to cover up something else entirely, especially when I see him eyeing me carefully as I stand up and cross to the bathroom.

His shower feels better than the one in my hotel. Once I'm finished and I'm redressed in Harry's shirt and my jeans, I find him waiting for me on the bed. It's made, and I notice the brilliant blue color of the comforter. The more I stare at it, the calmer I begin to feel. Which is a good thing, considering Harry stands up and entangles his strong fingers in mine, grinning from ear to ear.

"Museum?" he asks. I nod and together we venture off to Harry's Porsche, the museum waiting for us.

* * *

He was right. I love it. The grand cases hold a piece of every period of history from ancient Egyptian artwork to the tiara of a Romanov princess. There are feather headpieces from Native American tribes, African masks and costumes from Laurence Olivier's Hamlet. Everywhere I turn there is something colorful catching my eye, a giant array of artifacts glistening beneath an area light. Half of the time I don't need to read the plaques, must to my satisfaction and Harry's amusement. I giggle and laugh as I watch him try to pronounce the French words on a plaque describing a piece of Napoleon's armor, and eventually I take pity on him and read it out loud. He grins and shakes his head in awe before grabbing my hand and leading me down an ornate hallway toward the exhibit he really wants me to see.

"Harry –" I begin to protest as he covers my eyes with his hand, and he lets out a small chuckle.

"Trust me, 'Mione." He whispers and we stop walking. "Okay, open." He says, lowering his hand to his side.

My jaw drops and my breath escapes my mouth in one fluid second. The sign to my right tells me that before me stands a replica of Jane Austen's bedroom. There is a small writing desk in front of a very plain white window with a small curtain blowing in an automated breeze, paper and quill on site ready for use. The ground is old wood and creaks as I take a step further. A small bed sits to my right with a beautiful quilt and feather pillow, beckoning me to lie down and take a nap. Across from it rests an armoire, polished oak, with brass handles that shine against the light sneaking in from behind the window.

"Harry…Oh, my god." I say. "This is amazing." He nods.

"It's a traveling exhibit. It's only here for another week, but it has her original manuscripts in a case by the desk, see?" he says and guides me toward it. Sure enough, beneath the glass are bundles of faded ink on yellowed paper, curling at the edges. They are wrapped in string that looks as if it hasn't been touches in two hundred years, and I feel my heart skip a beat.

"Are those hers too?" I whisper, gesturing toward the bonnet and handkerchief that are displayed on the shelf below. Harry nods enthusiastically.

"That quilt was hers too." He says and I feel my eyes drift back toward the bed. I shake my head in utter amazement and wrap my arms around Harry's waist. He squeezes me to him as I take a deep breath, intoxicating my mind with his scent.

"I can't believe I got to see her manuscripts!" I squeak into his chest. As he laughs I feel his heartbeat race, and it brings a blush to my cheeks. "Why aren't other people here?" I ask. Harry's eyes dart to the ground and he almost looks sheepish as his eyes meet mine again.

"Well, even in this world I have some connections and, er…I might've rented the exhibit for half an hour so you could fully enjoy it. I know how much books mean to you, and I know that the first book you ever read was Pride and Prejudice, and I thought you might really like it." He says with a small, tender voice. I'm speechless as I look at him, and before I know it I'm placing a hand on his cheek and drawing small circles on his perfect skin.

"You..Harry…You are too amazing for words." I whisper. I want to kiss him, I want to pour out my heart and soul to him as he stares at me with those brilliant green eyes. Something is stopping me, but it's something I'm finding incredibly easy to suppress the longer he looks at me. This is the moment he's been waiting for, I can tell, and there is a voice in my head telling me he isn't going to be the one to make a move. He wants to see if I'm ready to try this relationship out, he wants to know if I am ready to move forward and experiment with something we were so close to having yet so far from actually reaching. This game is now in my hands, and I start to feel panic rise in my stomach.

Last night was amazing. If I'm being completely honest, it was better than I remembered and it was something I want to do again. Often. But I still can't accept that I'm not going to hurt him and that's where the rub lies. The seconds are ticking by faster than I want them to and I feel Harry start to tense up. His arms are loosening their hold on me, and suddenly the panic switches from that of worry to that of fear. Fear that I will lose him, fear that he will hate me forever. Fear that if I don't do this, I will never have another chance to.

He deserves more than me, though. I am a train wreck who can't love without hurting. It's ridiculous of me to wish Harry to wait for me to be ready for this, and it's stupid of me to treat him so badly and expect him to welcome me with open arms.

His eyes give him away, though. He'd wait a thousand years if he had to. And I know, despite my fears, that I would wait two thousand. There is no turning back.

I selfishly lift my body up with my toes and place a gentle kiss on Harry's lips. He relaxes and his hand comes up to cup my cheek delicately, and after a moment I break away and give him a smile. I'm way past too deep. I am trapped. I am madly in love with him and for all I know he could be madly I love with me too, and no matter what I tell myself I know I am not going to walk away. So when Harry wraps his arms around my waist and hugs me to him, where I feel his cock start to twitch against my leg, I give him a husky growl and kiss him fiercely. He pulls away after a moment and I whimper, which makes him grin wolfishly.

"You have a room to explore." He says breathily. "I would hate for this to go to waste." He says. I raise an eyebrow at him and place my hands on my hips.

" I have a feeling, Mr. Potter, that there may be a double meaning to your statement." I tease. His hand flies to his heart and his face contorts into a wounded look, mocking me the same way I mocked him. I feel my desire grow in this playful atmosphere, and I decide to make him suffer in the most delicious way possible. "However, there are cameras…" I point out, and Harry's eye searches in the top right corner. He blushed and gives me a cheeky grin.

"So?" he says seductively. I shake my head very slowly and take a step closer to him. I lean into his ear and rest my breasts over his arm, making him shudder as I say,

"So…I'm going to explore this room and afterwards, I'll take you home and we'll see what else might need exploring, hm?"

He gives me a quirky smirk.

"Explore away, Granger." He says, and sinks into a rocking chair by the armoire. I sigh.

"Harry, you aren't supposed to sit in the artifacts!" I scold. He smirks.

"I love when you get bossy." He says with a little shimmy of his shoulders. I try hard to keep down the laugh that wants free, and instead I roll my eyes and bend over right in front of him as if I had to tie my shoe. I hear his sharp intake of breath and turn around.

"Get out of the chair and you can explore _that_ later." I say. He nods.

"Okay!" he says, a little too enthusiastically. I burst out laughing and his cheeks turn crimson. "Sorry…" he says. I smile at him and turn around so I won't make him feel worse, and I pretend to look at the manuscripts and quill before the throbbing in my groin is almost unbearable.

"Harry." I say. "We have to go. Now."

He is all too willing to oblige, and I can't deny the guilt I feel that he went through so much effort to let me have that exhibit to myself, and I am leaving early so we can go shag. He doesn't seem to mind though, and he finds it hard to keep his hands to himself as we drive back to his house.

We have another night together, and it is even more brilliant than the night before. I find myself awake in his arms and the alarm clock reads 2:23 a.m. I know I need to be asleep. I know that tomorrow is going to come faster than I think and I know that, eventually, I'm going to have to get my things out of the hotel room. I'm still wearing Harry's old t-shirt, and because of that everything around me smells of him. That, and the fact that I am currently wrapped in his muscular arms.

Apprehension is still rearing its ugly head, but considering we've now spent two nights in a row together, slept in the same bed, and snogged each other till our lips almost bled, I suppose we're heading down the path I wanted so desperately to avoid.

Then again, did I really want to avoid it?

If I did, I wouldn't be here. I have a very decent hold on decisions, and I know that if this was something I truly did not want I would have walked away.

My mind is screaming all these thoughts to me, and eventually I remove myself from Harry's grip and walk to the bathroom. I'm more aware that I'm moving in here as I look around the room, and my stomach threatens to flip over at that thought. He said we wouldn't act like a couple, but was that still true? Especially since I was the one who initiated tonight's rendezvous?

I stare at my face in the mirror and frown. Backing out would destroy him, and not acting like a couple would just be delaying the inevitable…Right?

I turn the knob for the cold water on and splash a little on my face. I can't tell if I'm thinking straight, and when I open my eyes again I make a very conscious, very sudden, very insane decision.

I'm going to ask Harry to be my boyfriend.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading!


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